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hisfavegiri · 14 days

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You’re Mine - Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Warning : typical inscet Targaryen, breeding kink, breast slapping, rough sex, jealous Aegon.

Summary: On Aegon's name day, you spent time dancing with everyone. But there is someone who is always watching you

You laughed out loud while dancing to the song, you deliberately didn't accept invitations from all the lords because you didn't really like it.

Your mother and father are watching you with smiles on their faces, as is your grandfather who is sitting at the head of the royal table.

"Good evening princess, I hope you enjoy the party"

You turned your head and found Brandon Tyrell standing behind you, you smiled and nodded slowly.

"Good evening Brandon, yes I really enjoyed this party"

"Glad to know that princess, may I ask you to dance?"

You hesitated but then you accepted his invitation and started dancing with him. Without you realizing it, Aegon had been watching you intently.

"He won't stop dancing with her if you just look at them from here" Aemond's voice made Aegon turn towards him.

Aemond was right, but Aegon was not in the mood to dance. but seeing you laughing and dancing with other people makes his blood boil. Then Aegon stood up making your mother look at him with a confused look.

"I'll be right back," he said and stepped towards you, his steps were very heavy but also fast.

"So Brandon, do any of the women in this palace catch your attention?"

"So far I have only looked at you princess, there is no other woman as beautiful as you"

You laughed at his words, until the sound of a cough distracted you. "Evening Sir Brandon, can I dance with my sister?"

You looked at Aegon in shock, then Brandon nodded and walked away from the two of you. now you and Aegon started dancing

“What did you talk to him about? I saw you were very cheerful and laughing out loud earlier. “You could clearly hear the dislike and jealousy in his tone, you just smiled and shook your head.

“Why do you want to know? It doesn't matter Aegon” you said quietly, you really liked it when he saw him jealous.

Aegon snorted and squeezed your waist, his eyes staring at you sharply and deeply.

"Don't play with me sister, you know I don't like it when people touch anything that's mine."

You shivered when he whispered his last words, your bodies were so close together now. you could see many eyes watching the two of you, including your father and mother.

you heard Aegon chuckle softly, “did the dragon get your tongue darling?”

“Aegon, everyone’s starting at us” you whisper back to him, and he looks around then he smiles and he looks back at you. "Let them, so everyone know that you are mine"

Once alone, Aegon closed the door behind them, trapping you within his gaze. His voice was commanding, laced with possessive desire. "You looked stunning out there, sister. But remember this, you're mine, and no one else's." Aegon caressing your neck while whispering close to your ears.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in Aegon eyes. "Aegon, what are you trying to do?," you protested, but your words were cut off as he moved closer, his proximity overwhelming you.

And as he stepped in front of large mirrors in his chambers, he stared into the reflection looking back at your silhouette. your hair was messy, your face was glimmering underneath his sweat and as he moved away your long and silky hair. Then he release your dress slowly by murmurs his breath afterwards he is revealing your body in naked.

He lets his eyes go wide and his expression softens for full persuasive effect, you huffs, leaning in again. Then, Aegon presses their lips together. He’s firm, making the most of the brief moment afforded to you. He parts his lips and lets out a soft sigh before finally pulling away, your face a shade or two redder than when she had first leaned in.

Aegon reaches out let you to sit between his spread going slow to make sure his sister is comfortable with the new position. Aegin hands slide down your sides and he tenses as they brush past your core, “Ng— Aegon..”

Aegon other hand slowly tracing down from your lips and trickles through your naked breast. You silently admires Aegon’ broad chest and toned shoulder as you casts your full attention on him. You can feel your cheeks slowly heat up as you senses Aegon bores his focus on your figure as well.

“All mine.”

Aegon low voice breaks the silence, magically captivating you and makes your hand wander to touch his collarbones, expression lightens up in fascination despite your reddening face. You lowers your palm to caress his stomach, then up to his chest and lets it lingers there. Aegon lips curl up into a gentle smile at the action. He remains in that position, enjoying the warm touch of his sister.

Then you squealed softly as Aegon pulled you to his bed, you both laughed softly and you kissed his lips. You looked at Aegon's face and stroked his cheeks, he looked at you.

“On your stomach, now” You sulked and reluctantly laying down. Aegon slowly stroked your bottom, smirking a bit. You shivered at the sensation, a whimper leaving your lips.

“You've been a bad girl, haven't you love? talking to other man, making me jealous” Aegon asked, playing with his sister ass. You reluctantly nodded your head. "Y-yes I have..." you muttered out quitely.

Aegon chuckled. "You know what bad girls get? They get punishments? And you're about to get yours." you shuddered, bringing your ass up for him viewing pleasure. He groaned. "Eager as always, aren't we?" He teased, before unexpectedly spanking you. You yelped, tears threatening to leave your eyes from the force.

Aegon affectionately rubbed your behind and gave you another slap. "One." He counted. He spanked her once more. "Two." Another slap echoed through the room. "Three." He said. By the tenth spank, you was a whining mess, begging him to stop. Aegon picked you up and sat you on his lap. He kissed your cheek and rubbed your thigh. "There there dove, it's all done." He said, ending his words with a peck on your lips.

Then he lays you down and climbs on top of you, kissing your whole face gently until he stops at your lips and kisses them softly. “let me take care off you love” as he looked at your bare body on his bed.

You absolutely never fails to leave Aegon awestruck by your ethereal attractiveness, especially when you’re underneath him without any fabrics concealed your curves. He rotates his hips slightly after his length is fully sunk into her, eliciting an obscene moan from the opposite side.

As their gazes collide, Aegon’s hand discovere new purchase around the smaller's neck and squeezes slightly. Then, he applies additional pressure to the sides, feeling your throat constricts and your breath hitches down. After a moment, Aegon lets go and picks up a steady pace. His palm drifting to cradle your jaw before dragging his thumb across your lower tier. Under Aegon’s fingers, your lips flutter with warm breath as you basks in the pleasure.

"Fuck i love the way your walls squeeze me, the way you taking me so well"

You couldn't help but sigh because his pace became more faster also becoming hard and Aegon kept hitting the spot that made your toes curl. He smirked, when looking at you who's holding down at the sheet. You threw your head back as Aegon’s kept on pounding into you. You shut your eyes as the knot inside your stomach grew tighter, signaling that you was about to come.

"Look at me baby, look at me when I'm fuck you good" You looked at his eyes and bite your lower lips, His thrusts were relentless, his pace was brutal. He leaning down to kiss your neck. You whined when he hit that certain spot, she could feel the smug smile against your neck.

"That's the spot huh?" you can't even answer, your eyes are roll back from the pleasure.

"Only my cock that will keep filling you, and i will remind you that everyday." He said, and continued rubbing your swollen clit. you let out a whine, "Ngh—yes yes please ..." you replies breathlessly, squeezing your eyes shut as Aegon keep pistoning his hips toward yours.

"I'll fuck you whenever I want, wherever I want, and will breed you over and over again. My seed will fill your womb, and grow in your belly. I can't wait." Aegon growled with every thrust. “gonna make you swollen with my babies”

your mind goes crazy as you imagine you swell with his child, letting everyone know that you only belong to him. “yes yes yes, please”

Aegon chuckled. "make everyone now that you’re mine, just mine, All mine" He says while slapping your breast lightly, which made you moan.

“ohh P-please..." you rasped. He groaned, he was near his peak.

"Shit, I'm close baby" He said. Your body began to shake with unimaginable pleasure.

"Fuck, now make a mess for me. Cum for me" you let out a high pitched moan as you reached your peak, thrn he thrusted a few more times to make sure that he’s seeds is deep inside you "now you can sleep love" he chuckled and kissed her forehead.

— tag list : @danytar

let me now if you want to be on my tag list for the new story 🙌🏻😉

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd one shot #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd aegon #aegon ii fanfic #king aegon #aegon the second #hotd x reader #x reader #hotd season 2 #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #prince aegon targaryen

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fragileheartbeats · 22 days

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Your a pussy you say you don't have a side but you LOVE AEGON.You think we are stupid like you??? Have balls and say your a Rape Apologist who wants to fuck a pretty bitch named Tom who's a rapist.Aegon is a half-blood murder rapist you fucking disgusting.Rhaenyra was rightful queen but he take her right away from her.aren't you a woman???you supposed to take Rhaenyra side but you just want to be raped by a pretty boy.you just like aegon because of tom.

I'm really tired of people like you.

You're stupid, your argument is stupid, you sound stupid and you make stupid points.

You think because you're team black you did a great thing or something? You can't be that stupid that you don't understand that the writers want you to be on black side. It's pretty obvious. Writers are pro black and unprofessional, I bet they didn't even read the book.

I don't like Aegon because Tom playing him and I want to fuck a pretty bitch, I like Tom because he play Aegon. If he didn't played Aegon, I would never have known this lovely man, and you guys really should stop insulting him, he's just doing his job and he try he's best to do a good job so we can enjoy the show. If you hate him, keep it to yourself because words have more affect that you might think. I understand that you don't like him, there are people that I myself dislike but I would never say something like this about them, not only your words can hurt them mentally but also can ruin their life.

Aegon was a rapist, yes almost like every other men in GOT and HOTD. And if you actually think with a brain you can understand that on his time it was normal for men in power to rape women. It was normal for sons to take the throne after their father and it was normal for siblings to kill each other for power. You really think if he lived in 2024 he would be a rapist and a murder? Or would he tried to take Rhaenyra's right?

"Half-blood" is such a funny word to use. Rhaenyra herself wasn't a pure Targaryen, her bastards are less that half Targaryen and her true borns aren't pure Targaryen either. Idk why you guys use this word as if it's an insult and it's give her more right (if she was a pure Targaryen, which she's not) to be queen.

"Rightful"? What do you exactly mean by that? There is no rightful when it's come to power, and if it is, the day that Aegon was born and the day that Rhaenyra born her first bastard it was over. Believe it or not, people didn't want a woman in power, especially a woman like Rhaenyra. And they didn't want bastards to sit on iron throne. Idk why it's so hard to understand that this war would happened not matter if it was Aegon or someone else, but I promise people wouldn't let a woman and especially a woman who have obvious bastards sit on iron throne.

Tell me something that Rhaenyra did and it's make her a rightful and good queen, just one thing and I promise I would choose black.

Actually when she sat on iron throne, it's cut her and she bleed and it was a sign that the throne rejected her.

She would never make a good queen, she was spiteful, jealous and a lustful woman, the only thing that make her a "queen" is her father claiming her as heir. She lack strong sense of duty and her desires make her to do a lot of stupid things. She was someone who ignored the rules and did not accept her responsibilities and shirked from them. Being a king or queen need a great potential that she lacked.

"With great power come great responsibility". She wanted the power, yes but she didn't do anything to deserve it. Instead of changing herself, she expects others to obey her without any words or expectations. She didn't read anything about history and didn't try to fit herself into her position as a female heir.

One of the worst things she did that jeopardized her position as future queen was that she gave birth to bastards, but what made it worse was that she pretended that they were true born and should sit on the iron throne after her. And she punished everyone who said otherwise. As I said before, she's Targaryen version of Cersei. Both Rhaenyra and Cersei gave birth to three ridiculously obvious looking bastards and tried everything in their power to shut the people who said the true. But at least Cersei could tell that her bastards look like her unlike Rhaenyra.

Of course, Viserys is also to blame. He never prepared Rhaenyra to be queen because he never intended to choose her as his heir in the first place, he always tried for a son and when Aemma failed to give him a son he chose Rhaenyra as his heir (he didn't want Daemon to be king). He also increased the chances of starting a war by having three true born sons and choosing none as his heir.

Rhaenyra always relied on others and never took responsibility for her mistakes and never tried to change.

And if this is about feminism, isn't feminism supposed to be about equality between men and women? If so then tell me why Rhaenyra stayed behind, eat her sweets and watched her family die for her while Aegon fought in the war, being burned and crippled?

Ever wondered why Rhaenyra couldn't win this war even though she had more dragons and more people supporting her? Maybe it was because she didn't know how to be a ruler? Maybe it was because she wasn't fit to be a queen? Maybe it was because she did almost everything wrong?

I don't want to be raped, I like Tom, yes because he's a sweet man. He's lovely and beautiful, ofc I like him. But Aegon is a different story, I always liked Aegon, he was the most interesting character in the book and I understood him most that's why I like him.

Now please stop your bullshit, you're just embarrassing yourself, it's pathetic.

The next time you decide to send a message like this think with your brain because I'm done being polite.

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xfancyuu · 1 year

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~ now i draw a luxury nxde. [aemond targaryen] 18+ SMUT

because it's the beginning of spring i wanted to post for that so in universe it is also warm and flowers are blooming! reader is afab with she/her pronouns & my requests are open! this could be read as though it's in the same universe as my other bolton!reader works, though she's married to aemond and is referred to as lady targaryen. there are no appearance indicators in this fic, this is kinda canon divergence. also i didn't bold the dialogue for this one and i actually think i'm gonna go and reformat my other fics to match! this fic is also known as frolicking and fucking so yeah that's what you're in for. smut will be indicated with a different coloured line break if you do not wish to read it. [1,757 words]

this fic contains: wall sex, public sex, dressed sex, choking, spitting, voyeurism, name-calling, corruption kink, attempted dirty talk? y'all are just newly married and experimenting tbh, y'all degrade each other, slight orgasm denial, cumming inside. if i missed any please lmk!

You had never imagined life as a married woman to be so blissful. You had heard from the ladies in court that they simply did their marital duty and did not enjoy spending time with their husbands. They had told you that the bliss would wear off within the year once you had children, and they would steal your beauty.

You had all but rolled your eyes at their commentary. They were rude and bitter, seeking your own mood to be as equally unhappy as their own. They nitpicked at everything you did, from reading too much to what you ate and how you conducted yourself. Loneliness truly was more appealing than spending ceaseless amounts of time with women who were your mother's age and almost as bitter. Being surrounded with unmarried women was improper, they had told you — not that you paid them mind, as your ladies in waiting were all unmarried and far better company.

You found yourself in the gardens with your ladies-in-waiting more often than not, the weather was pleasant, and you'd much rather be outside than wallow inside without much joy. Flowers had brought you much more joy than you had anticipated, they livened your mood from the dreaded time spent with the married ladies in court. They wouldn't be seen outside without reason, whereas you did not care much for the opinions and thoughts of others in court, despite being a Princess.

The book within your lap had become much more interesting than whatever your ladies were gossiping about, you hadn't cared much for the people they were talking about, but the adventure of Lady Sunderland and her times in the Reach were too addictive to put down. Your ladies' had tried to gain your attention one too many times, but you were too engrossed in the book to care for the outside world.

The book was abruptly taken from your hands, making you both lose the page you were ready and had caused your brain to be hazy. You were both mad and irritated by the actions of someone clearly trying to ruin your day. "Do you mind?" You had asked, not expecting to see your husband as you looked up.

"Is it a crime for me to want to spend time with my wife?" Aemond had asked you, extending his hand as if expecting you to take it despite disturbing your peace.

"It's a crime when you snatch my book off of me and expect me to be happy about it." You retorted, deciding it was probably better to go along with him, and took his help to get off the grass. "Lucky for you, I like you enough not to lock you up."

"Oh how merciful." Aemond responded, not removing your hand from his grasp, "the flowers are blooming, you should be looking at the world instead of living in your books."

"I'll have you know I can do both equally," You retorted, leading Aemond away from the prying eyes and sharp ears of your ladies, "Now you're here you might as well keep me company if you won't let me read, perhaps a walk around the garden would do us both some good."

"I have a better idea than touring the gardens," Aemond had pulled you into a secluded pathway leading away from the hustle and bustle of everybody else.

"Your ideas always end up with us in trouble." You weren't entirely wrong, the disapproving look of Queen Alicent would be forever engrained in your brain.

"They may be troublesome, but you always have fun." You couldn't disagree, instead you simply followed Aemond to whichever location he wanted to show you.

Aemond had abruptly left you in the morning, leaving you needy and begging for him to finish the job he'd started yet he had left you without a thought for your own well-being. You could somewhat blame your crankiness and willingness to do such a deviant act in public with the possibility of anybody seeing and reporting such acts to the Queen.

The thought that you shouldn't be doing this had crossed your mind — the words would not leave your mouth though, you had wanted to do this, neediness had seeped in, with your skirts and underclothes raised above your waist, your modesty was damned and so were you.

The carnal need and desire you felt within yourself had put all your thoughts out the window, if you were in your usual mind frame you would have told Aemond no, that it was improper but words would not form in your throat. Instead, you kissed him back with almost as much longing.

The insatiability you had felt was consuming you, yet it felt more so annoying, Aemond hadn't truly done anything to you to make you feel this way, little touches and long stares did not warrant you feeling so flustered by the man so much you'd let him take you any which way he wanted.

You were expecting the current position you were in — being in public had never been a boundary you crossed with each other, yet he had so little patience when it had come to you, not even checking if the garden was secluded enough not to have prying eyes follow you, "Who knew my lady wife could be such a whore?" Aemond had whispered in your ear, though you could not form words of your own, "Wanting me to take her right now with not a care in the world who witnesses it."

"I think you can only get your cock up with the thought of an audience, you leave me so frustrated when we're alone in our chamber."

"You may come to regret that, wife." Aemond had always had to get the last word, "Your tongue may be sharp, but I will fuck you until you can't form another sentence." He'd begun unlacing his trousers, and you truly knew you were in for it — whatever it entailed, you weren't sure.

"You keep saying what you're going to do, but you haven't even stuck it in yet, tell me husband, are you struggling? Do you need me to help you stick it in? Can you not find the hole?" You couldn't finish your light-hearted taunting Aemond had entered you with little care, it was sloppy and lustful as though he felt as much need as you did.

You couldn't stay quiet, not with how intoxicating Aemond had felt inside, thrusting himself as far as he could inside of you, the slow pace was comfortable but irritating, you wanted it fast and hard, you wanted Aemond to show you the side of himself he hid away, the side which would make you blush if you so much as thought about it.

You were so used to being in control, Aemond had ensured you always felt comfortable and could stop at any moment but seeing him so dominant had made you tingle, then gasp as you felt a hand around your throat. "You've got to be quiet, you don't want the world to hear you, do you? Don't want the world to hear what a whore you become for cock."

The sight of your ladies seeing you in such a position had the opposite effect than what you thought it would, the idea of corrupting them as much as you had been corrupted had you clenching around Aemond's cock.

"Not so fast, princess," Aemond spoke, his pace slowing and causing the momentum and build-up to your own orgasm to be depleted. "Good girls get to cum, you've not been a good girl, have you?"

You couldn't respond, the hand wrapped around your throat had become tighter, "Going to cum inside you, princess, have you got a problem with that?" You had tried to shake your head, but with the grip Aemond had on your throat, your head hadn't moved an inch.

Aemond had increased his speed, and you knew he was close to his own peak despite ruining your own, the pettiness within you had decided if you didn't get your release neither was Aemond. As if sensing your plans, Aemond thrust into you harder, keeping you in place as though you were a doll he could do what he pleased. "You're going to take my seed, and you're going to thank me for it."

Your orgasm was too sudden for you to realise what was happening, from the words Aemond spoke to the way he was fucking you, it was far too much to process and your body reacted entirely by itself. You knew disobeying Aemond would have consequences but in the depth of your own pleasure and Aemond continuing to fuck you, you didn't care. You'd take any punishment to feel a moment of the pleasure you were currently feeling.

"Naughty girl." Aemond whispered in your ear as you came down from your high, "I thought you'd finally be a good girl, though I suppose I set my standards too high for you. Open your mouth."

You did as he commanded, not wanting to make him more upset with you. However, you weren't prepared for him to spit in your mouth — or to like it as much as you did. "You belong to me and you do as I say."

It hadn't taken long for Aemond to spill his seed within you, his grip on your throat loosening and his teeth biting into your skin. It wasn't often you had allowed him to cum inside you — the prospect of what would follow being in the forefront of your mind. "I'm yours." You reassured Aemond as he came down from his climax.

"Are you okay there?" You had asked, not used to such an intense reaction from Aemond, "I really enjoyed myself." You reassured him, you were so close and the euphoria of the situation had you cradling Aemond within your arms.

"It was just a bit... much, I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked, pulling out of you. At that moment, you knew you'd need to bathe. The feeling of his seed coming out of you had you almost recoiling.

"Trust me, you'd know if you were hurting me." You didn't want to approach the subject of being witnessed in such an act. "Your mother may be expecting more grandchildren soon."

"Moontea exists, my dear." You hadn't been married a year yet, it wasn't entirely suspicious that you had not shown signs of being pregnant. "And for what it's worth, I enjoy our time just being the two of us."

as always, thank you for reading this! i really appreciate it. i really enjoy writing for aemond so if y'all have any requests send them my way. my next hotd fic will be for helaena so if that interests you just message me! crossposted on ao3 under the name hedonism!

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x y/n #i just had fun writing this if you couldnt tell #basically i watched the tudors and yeah #i think this is the filthiest thing i've wrote

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oddduckthatgirl · 8 months

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Pray For Us Sinners

Title: Pray for Us Sinners

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Warnings: religious guilt, religious themes, discussions of sexual themes, smut

Summary: Aemond thought himself to be a devout servant of the Seven. Until her.

A/N: I tried. Really. Don’t hate me.

Aemond rolled over, restless in his bed. He growled in frustration. Sweat covered his bare torso, the sound of his own breath was ragged in the darkness. His thoughts drifted to his betrothed; even his darkest ones. The brush of the cover over his hardness made him groan.

He was beyond frustrated. His stones ache with the memory of her laughter. He longed to hear all the sounds she could make.

Tossing the covers off his overheated body, he begins pacing the floor of his bedchamber. He never felt temptation like this before. He is a faithful servant of the Seven, despite the wrath he would love to unleash.

Lust was a new affliction to him, but he’s seen through his brother exactly the ruin it can bring. Aemond had decided long ago he would not be seduced into depravity like weaker men. He always kept proper distance with any woman he encountered. Never letting his gaze linger too long or speaking in a manner that would be offensive.

Deep down, he did not believe women to be less. They are mothers, sisters and daughters and should be treated with dignity. He couldn’t understand why anyone who called himself a man could hurt these precious gifts from the Seven. It was true he had seen a few women he thought were attractive but he put them out of his mind. They were allowed to just be beautiful without him imposing himself on them.

It was so simple. Until her.

Aemond thinks of the day they were introduced. He was convinced this would be a marriage of convenience. To keep the peace. Her family were very devout followers of the Faith and his grandsire thought the match to be amenable. Mother believed this girl to be an ideal match based on her faith and her love of reading. Aemond thought she sounded pleasant enough according to the letters; that her portrait was pleasing.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of her leaving the carriage that day. The way her golden hair shone in the sun. The shade of pink that painted her cheeks when her dark eyes met his pale one. Her voice saying “my Prince” was the finest song he had ever heard. The way her dress accentuated her shape without it being vulgar. Everything about her is exactly as it should be and more.

Then this feeling began. He was always hot blooded, fire beneath his skin. This, however, was different. Every word she spoke, every shy glance his way, and every touch burned through him. No woman he had ever met had this effect on him.

He decided that he would have to devote himself even more to the Seven. He needed guidance and strength. He knew he deserved it. All he needs to do is ask and the Seven will grant him all he needs.

He doesn’t wish to insult his lady or her virtue. He wanted to be the husband she deserved. She is a pure lady and shouldn’t even be in such lecherous thoughts.

Their wedding was in a sennight but it might as well be six moon turns away. He longed for her presence beside him but it was agony. He wondered if she felt this burning as he did but of course he couldn’t ask. That would be improper. He was sure she felt something. Her face flushes when he kisses her hand. Her breath catches when he pulls her close.

….but his lady wouldn’t trade in depravity. She spends much time in prayer, which he has taken to accompanying her to the Grand Sept. However after seeing her kneel in prayer, that pose has been imprinted into his mind. He had great difficulty concentrating on anything but how tight his breeches had become.

Ashamedly, he has used that image of her kneeling to sate his lust. He imagined standing in front of her, fingers tracing over her perfect face. The way her breath would catch when he said her name. Asking her to show him her devotion. The way she would accept his thumb pushing past her lips. The feeling of her hand unlacing his breeches. How warm her mouth would be as she took his cock. The sounds she would make.

Aemond played these thoughts out time and time again. Especially at night. Sleep would elude him for hours and even if he did drift into slumber he would dream about taking all the pleasures of the flesh with her. He would take his cock in hand, hissing with the first stroke. Never had he been so hard that it hurt. He wanted her, every way he could. Pumping himself while thinking of her lips on him instead of his hand made him a simpering mess. Writhing against the cool sheets of his bed, his moans echoed off the walls. Once the tightness would begin to coil, he would cup his stones while he fisted himself with a tighter grip. His peak would wash over him in moments; her name falling from his lips.

He could find sleep after that but when he would wake shame gripped him. He hates himself for his thoughts and actions. He would pray to the Father to not succumb to this weakness and to be forgiven for wasting his spend on his own pleasure. He would find it difficult to meet the eyes of his Lady the rest of those mornings. She would smile shyly at him and he was once again lost.

He was desperate about these feelings, so he turned to Aegon. Thinking that perhaps just once his brother would give helpful advice.

“Claim her, brother,” Aegon whispered, “all that needs to happen is ceremonial at best. The only way to get rid of temptation is to give into it.”

“We must be wed first. I will not tarnish the good name of my Lady or her house!”

“You fucking virgins. So consumed with your purity and chastity. It’s just fucking.”

“It is NOT just fucking. You give a piece of your soul to them. Every time. Perhaps that is why you have none left.”

“Save your lecture. The only other option is to relieve yourself anyway you can. There’s always the street of silk….or you do it yourself.”

Both options were not what Aemond wanted. He wouldn’t lower himself to visit a pleasure house. Relieving himself was the only suitable option, even though the thought filled him with shame.

It began only at night, after he was alone. Then he would find the need arising after breaking his fast with her and then again after any time spent together. It was affecting his training; he was distracted. He didn’t even read as much as he once had. His thoughts were consumed with her and his need to claim her.

He gripped the edge of his desk tightly now just to keep his hands away. His need is throbbing, begging to be touched. He slammed his fist down against the wood. Why was he so weak? Then she would drift into his mind: her hair falling over her shoulders, the look of complete devotion she has, the cut of her dress…

No! Aemond shakes his head as if to throw the thoughts away. He tries to think of anything else. Small council meetings, mother’s singing, time…yes, what time has it become?

Aemond gathers it must be near the hour of the wolf. The city is sleeping soundly while their Prince suffers. Lust has a hold on him: mind, body and soul.

His soul. That’s it. Now would be the best time to pray. Surely with the world asleep the Seven could hear his prayers without question. He hurriedly dresses, puts on a dark cloak and makes his way from his chambers down the secret passage that leads out from the Keep.

The streets are nearly empty except for a few beggars sleeping there. Aemond is careful to ensure his face and hair are obscured from view. No sense in any passerby to question the presence of a Targaryen Prince at this hour.

Concentrating on his journey to the Grand Sept keeps his mind busy. The need still burning in his veins feels less desperate for the moment. Thankfully the distance was enough for him to calm himself. He’s grateful that he will be able to have his wits about him for this.

He opens and shuts the doors as quietly as possible. Not that he believes anyone would be here, he still wouldn’t want to disturb them. He stands in the entryway and takes a breath. His mind is more quiet now.

He walks towards the altars, confident in what he will ask for until he hears a sound that stops him.

Her. His Lady. Begging.

“Please Maiden, I wish to be pure for him. These desires are consuming me. I do not want him to reject me. I carry such affection for him in my heart. But my thoughts….,” she lays prostrate while sobbing into her hands.

She does feel what I feel. I also carry much affection for her in my own heart, Aemond mused. He cannot bear the sound of her tears. His chest aches to hear her in such pain. He wants to rush to her side, take her in his arms, and hold her until the tears abade.

He slowly approaches. He doesn’t wish to startle her, “my Lady?”

She pulls herself to her knees and turns to face him, “my Prince! Why are you here at this hour?”

He rushes to keep her from standing and instead kneels beside her, “I was restless.”

Her breath catches as he wipes the tears from her eyes, “thank you,your Highness.”

“It’s just us and the Gods. You may call me by my name here.”

Her cheeks flush, “as you wish Aemond.”

His resolve nearly breaks at just his name from her lips, “what troubles you? I would be happy to listen if you wish to unburden yourself to me.”

She begins to speak but silences herself for a moment, “I cannot tell you. This…it’s not befitting a proper lady,” tears well in her eyes again.

Aemond pulls her into his arms and holds her while she cries. Even though the sound breaks his heart, he will not leave her to her tears. Running his fingers through her hair, he presses a gentle kiss against her temple, “all will be well ñuha jorraelagon. I’m here.”

“Not if I unburden myself. You will be completely repulsed.”

He takes the edge of his cloak and begins to wipe the wet trails on her face dry, “you would be amazed at my resolve.”

“I have no doubt of your resolve Aemond,” she wheezed as new tears threatened to fall, “it’s so shameful I fear you will find me to be unworthy of marriage.”

“No more tears. Please. It wounds me to see you so distraught,” he takes her hands in his, “perhaps we can just be still for a few moments. Find peace in this Sept together. Will you try for me?”

She frantically nods her head.

“Good. Let us close our eyes and just breathe together.”

He watches as her eyes close and she bows her head. It caused the fire in his blood to heat once more. He quickly closed his eye and began to concentrate on keeping his breath steady. He also listened for her. He tried to not think of how warm her soft hands were in his. He needed to be strong for her. To help her.

They sat quietly, hand in hand for several moments. Aemond noticed when her breathing became calm. Tension rolled out of his shoulders knowing that at least he could help calm her.

“Aemond,” she whispered in the silent chamber, “why could you not find sleep?”

He opened his eye to see her soft expression. It was one of concern. He kissed her hands before meeting her gaze, “sleep has been elusive as of late.”

“Are you well? Is it,” she glances at his scar, “perhaps the maesters….”

“All they will wish to do is give me essence of nightshade to help me find sleep. Or worse believe I have pains and wish to give me milk of the poppy. Those are not the reasons I do not find sleep.”

“If it is not physical, may I guess you believe something weighs on your soul?”

He swallows thickly, “Something does indeed.”

“And I have kept you from your prayers. Forgive me.”

She begins to pull away but he grips her hands tighter, “please. Stay with me.”

A soft smile accompanies her words, “of course Aemond.”

“I would like to propose something. First I swear to you that no matter what you may say, I will never judge you or wish you gone from my side. Can you make me the same promise? To not judge me or wish me gone?”

“Yes. I swear.”

Her tongue wetting her lips nearly has Aemond lunging for her. He shifts his focus back to their joined hands, “I did not intend on anyone else to be here. When I entered and heard a voice, I thought….it isn’t important. I heard the last part of your prayers.”

Hanging her head in shame as he mentions her prayer, “I am not worthy of you.”

He leans forward so their foreheads touch. Aemond feels a hot tear slip down his cheek, “it is I who isn’t worthy of you.”

She shakes her head, “impossible.”

“Ñuha jorraelagon, the things I have wanted…from you…someone must know what I have imagined. What I have done.”

“Aemond,” her voice waivers, “it is shameful. This sin...”

“We are all sinners my Lady,” he states simply, “we are asked to unburden ourselves with confession. It is only then we can begin to do penance and seek absolution. It should not matter who we give our confession to, just that we make it known and seek to atone for it.”

“You are correct,” her gaze shifts to the face of the statue before them, “I don’t even begin to know how to atone for this.”

“Would it put your mind at ease if I told you of my sin,” a plea in his voice. He needs her to hear him. That is the price of his lust.

“Could you tell me what is your sin?”

He nods, swallowing his fear before he speaks, “Lust. Lust for my betrothed.”

She draws a shaky breath. Her eyes drag over his body, “I too have lust for my betrothed. I have tried so hard to not think of you that way…”

“In what ways do you think of me, sweet girl?”

“That you are a good man. You are kind, despite what you would have others think. You are a man who values his family and those he holds dear. Unlike other Targaryens, you are a man of the Faith.”

“You are too kind to me,” a genuine smile is on his face, “but that is not what brought you to the Sept at the hour of the wolf. I swore not to judge you. I will not.”

She closes her eyes, “it’s just….your hands. I find myself thinking of them. How it feels when you take mine in yours or how safe I feel when you hold me. Then I wonder about your hands on….other parts of me.”

Despite her confession, Aemond takes her hands in his. His chest is heaving; he can feel his heart pounding. The fire is back, “Other parts?”

“Yes,” her own ragged breath sounds too loud in this place. She places his hands on her thighs, “everywhere. In my weakness, I have imagined what your hands would feel like on my bare skin. In….inside me.”

“Tell me,” he flexes his fingers away from hers while dragging them toward her center, “you are a lady of virtue. What do you know of a man’s fingers touching a lady?”

She bravely meets his gaze, “My sister….she never wanted for me to suffer at the hands of a cruel lord. She told me things about my body, of pleasure. Things I now imagine you doing to me.”

“What things,” he felt as though his senses had left him. He’s now so depraved that he’s harder than he’s ever been, on his knees in a Sept alone with his betrothed.

“Things,” wetting her lips before she continues “I have done with myself alone in my chambers at night. I would imagine you touching me instead. I’m so lost to my sin that I wait for the night to come so I can revel in my depravity. It consumes me.”

Aemond gently cups her cheek. He does not trust himself to leave his hands on her thighs, “You desire me.”

“Yes,” no second thoughts to her answer.

“Then I have nothing to fear. For I have desired you from the moment we met,” he brushes his thumb over her lips, “this very moment I am fighting the desire to capture your lips with mine.”

She gasps, parting her lips. His fingers trace a line down her neck and along her collarbone. His eye focused on the swell of her breasts and the small hint of cleavage.

“You are the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms and you are mine. You don’t even know how beautiful you are. The hold you have over me. I would burn every city in Westeros if they dared to speak against you.”

“Aemond….”

“I want to spend every moment with you but I am weak. Even the most innocent way you smile makes me think of all the ways I wish to let this realm know you’re mine. My shame doesn’t end there my lady.”

She kisses his fingers and takes his hands in hers as if they were folded in prayer, “unburden yourself to me, my love. Although my love sounds much better the way you say it. I wish I could say it well enough.”

“You will learn,” he suppresses a groan at the thought of hearing her speaking High Valyrian, “the reason I could not find sleep is I was trying to resist my desire. Today, while we had walked in the Kingswood, that rider passed too close to you. Do you recall what I did?”

“You pulled me back against you, to keep me safe.”

“I did. However, in doing so, my thoughts were not innocent. The friction of your body against mine was too much to bear. When we returned to the holdfast, I excused myself from you. I was worried that I would no longer be able to control myself. I went back to my chambers and lost myself in the thoughts of claiming you. In truth, when I felt your body against mine, I wanted to bury myself inside you.”

Her mouth went dry.

“I went back to my chambers because I needed to relieve myself, as I have done every night. So, I fisted my cock while thinking of how warm and wet you would feel around me. About the sounds of pleasure you would make as I touched your pearl while thrusting myself deep inside you. I can think of nothing else. I have my hands on my cock more than my sword.”

It felt too hot in this stone building. Both of them flush with color from their shared confessions.

“Whatever are we to do Aemond,” pressing her knees against his, “we are not yet wed. We cannot let this control us.”

He nodded and cupped her neck in his hands, “it will not control me any longer.”

Aemond stands and offers his hand to help her from the floor. As soon as she is standing, he pulls her body against his. Her eyes dart around the room, “Aemond!”

“Did you make the journey here alone my Lady,” he purrs in her ear. She can only meekly nod in response, “good.”

He presses his lips to hers and both of them moan. Luckily their sound is muffled. He was desperate and wanting. She was pliant in his arms. His hands explored the curves of her body, squeezing the parts he enjoyed the most which elicited a gasp from her.

He silences her with his lips again, swallowing every groan he makes. Her hands travel along the lean muscles of his torso and chest, then up his arms, only to land in his hair. When he slipped his tongue between her lips, her grip tightened in his silver locks. It only seemed to encourage him more.

He pulled away suddenly, “we shouldn’t be doing this here. Someone will find us. Surely the Septa’s will be here for their morning prayers soon.”

She nodded in agreement.

“Come. We should return to the Keep while we still have the cover of night,” Aemond pulled his cloak back over his head and ensured she also concealed her identity. He watched for anything out of place, “stay close to me.”

She could feel the heat rolling off of him in waves. It made her center ache with want. She knows she cannot give in but she would like nothing more.

They quietly made their way back to the Red Keep. Thankfully no one was yet out in the city to have seen them. Aemond led her up the stairs to the passage back to his chambers.

Once inside, he removed his cloak and saw her taking in his space. Soon these would be their apartments in the holdfast. He stands behind her and whispers, “let me take your cloak my Lady.”

She watches his hands slip to the clasp of her cloak. He was painfully slow opening it but once he removed the fabric, his lips were on her neck. Soft, warm kisses up to her jaw line. He pushed himself against her backside, “see the effect you have on me.”

He spun her around and again captured her lips. He couldn’t get enough. It was like he had been starving. They both held so tightly that she hardly noticed his hands pulling a leg over his hip until she felt her skirts rise.

“What are you,” yelping in surprise as he lifts her with ease to the foot of his bed. Shame burns within her as she whines, “Aemond…please…we cannot.”

He climbs over her body as she lays against his bedding, “I will not take your virtue this night. But it would please me to hear more.”

Before she can ask what he meant, he grinds his manhood against her clothed center. Their shared moans ring through the chamber. He repeats the motion to much the same result.

“Do you wish me to stop,” his eye meeting hers as he kisses the swell of her breasts, “I will ensure you get back to your chambers without being seen.”

“Please continue,” she rasps, “I fear I might die if you stop.

He chuckles darkly and continues, “gods…I can feel your wetness through all of our clothing.”

She attempts to cover her face but Aemond claps his hands around her wrists, pulling her arms over her head. He kisses down her neck as he rolls into her, “Gieve. Just like this. Never hide from me.”

She wails when his movements become faster. She locks her legs around him. She feels the way her body begins to tighten. She has never felt this, even when she is by herself, “Aemond…what’s…I feel strange…”

“All is as it should be,” panting as his pace is beginning to falter, “don’t fight it. Give into it.”

He kisses her again, the want evident in the way he captures her lips. They are both a whining mess of sound and heat.

Aemond feels her hands tightening against him, “let go for me. Don’t fight it.”

His eye goes wide as she falls over the edge of pleasure. The sounds she makes goes directly to his cock. Soon after he shouts her name as he spills into his breeches.

He pulls himself to lay beside her. He takes her hands and presses soft kisses on her fingers, “please forgive me. I have forced this upon us. I thought I could control it. Instead…”

She watches as panic paints on his face. She quickly reaches for his face; he doesn't shrink away even as she is touching the scarred side.

He pulls himself into her and sobs, “please forgive me. I’m so sorry. I told you I was not worthy of you.”

She strokes his hair, “we promised not to judge the other. I am not judging you. You asked if I wanted you to stop and I did not. We should seek the forgiveness of the Seven for failing this small test.”

He nods as she rocks his body, “we should pray. Now.”

“I agree.”

He sits up and offers a hand to her. He kneels first. Looking up at her he sighs, “you are far more than I deserve.”

She kneels in front of him, “you are more than I deserve my Prince,” shame heats her cheeks, “what if someone hears?”

“Not here. The walls are quite thick,” his gaze fixed on her.

“We should begin,” she bows her head and begins her prayers with thanking each of the Seven.

Aemond joins her, repeating the same words he’s heard since he was a boy.

He also offers his thanks when they have finished, “I wish to thank the Maiden for sending this perfect wife to me. I’m sorry that I would let my lecherous thoughts taint her purity. Forgive her slight as I was the one who enticed her. I seek the Father’s forgiveness for my weakness. Give me the strength to not tempt her or myself further.”

“I thank the Father for sending me a man of Faith as my husband,” she smiles at the words, “forgive his slight as he did nothing to sully my virtue. He is but a man and I, a woman. I seek the forgiveness of the Maiden for my vile thoughts. Help me to not be a temptation. Let my virtue warm him until we are wed.”

The silence between them is broken by Aemond, “we shouldn’t…we cannot do this again even though it was…”

“Yes. Even though,” she agreed, “I should go.”

He nods in agreement, “at least let me lead you back through the passages. They can be confusing.”

She grabs her cloak and allows him to escort her back. She more than likely would have lost her way on her own. He pushes the hidden door open and listens for any sounds, “it is safe.”

She enters her chambers, “it will be morning soon.”

He presses a soft kiss against her forehead, “then you should try and find rest. We will have long days and longer nights ahead of us.”

“Go before I ask you to stay,” sighing as he releases her.

He takes one look back at her before disappearing into the passageways. Now that he is alone with his thoughts again, he relives what has occured. If he can endure this night, six more days should be far more simple.

Aemond settles himself back into bed as quickly as he can upon entering his chambers. He nearly drifts off when a sweet smell drifts to him. Her. The fire in his veins is rekindled.

“Seven help me.”

#aemond smut #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #oddduckthatgirl #prayforussinners #aemond x you

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elaratyrell · 3 months

Text

Aegon Targaryen NSFW Alphabet

*Divider from saradika-graphics*

Warnings: AFAB! Reader, not proof read, smut under the cut {duh}, language, mentions of drinking and drugs, infidelity, mentions of pregnancy, a brief mention of assault

A/N: It's TGC's birthday today so I thought I'd write something for Aegon. Happy birthday Tom! ❤️

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It depends what stage of the relationship you're in. If you're nothing more than a fuck, or in the very early stages of your relationship, Aegon will likely go to sleep pretty quickly. If your relationship has progressed further than that, a genuine love forming between the two of you, he might pull you close to him, one hand rubbing lazy circles along your back while he holds a goblet of wine in the other. If you're sore, he'll have the maids run you a bath.

Modern! Aegon would likely have a smoke, either a cigarette or a joint, whatever he had lying around really. And hey, if you're up for it, he'll let you share it with him.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Aegon doesn't particularly like any part of himself. He never had any regard for his self care, never took the time to actually appreciate anything about himself. However, if he had to choose something, it would be his mouth, specifically his tongue. He could spend hours buried between your thighs, hearing you breathe out soft moans and whispers of his name as he brings you to the edge over and over again {Bonus: Modern! Aegon has a tongue piercing. Fight me.}

As for you, Aegon would adore every inch of you... BUT... we know this man has a weakness for tits. He loves your tits.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He doesn't really give a damn about mess. He also doesn't give a damn about where he cums, as long as it's on or in you in some way. On your face, your tits, your stomach... he doesn't care. He is lazy, and so will probably be more likely to just cum inside of you. It's more intimate, he feels closer to you and it just lets him enjoy holding you as close as he can while you both find your release.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

All I'm going to say is he wouldn't mind you using some of those... ahem… toys he has in his chambers on him one day...

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's had a ton of experience, of course. His reputation precedes him.

However, what he hasn't ever had experience in is the vulnerability, the intimacy, the love that can be experience while with someone physically. The women on the streets of silk he paid to pity him, the maids he took advantage of, and he never had that romantic bond with Helaena. Feeling those things with you is new to him. He's never felt truly loved. Until you.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

He's a lazy boy, and he loves your breasts, so having you straddle his waist while he lays back comfortably on the bed, your tits bouncing in his face as you bounce on top of you. Anytime you're on top is ideal for him, though I feel that he'd be down to try most positions.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Aegon {especially Modern! Aegon} is the most likely one to be less serious in the moment. His humour will most likely be in the form of rather crude or inappropriate comments, teasing you in an attempt to ease any tension there might be, especially if he's known you long enough to trust you. For him, sex is a form of escapism, of stress relief. His life is full of severity and seriousness, so this time he spends with you is the only time he can truly loosen up and relax.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpet will definitely match the drapes. And like I said above, Aegon takes little care of himself. I doubt he'd make much effort to keep himself tidy unless you really wanted him too. However, I don't think he'd be particularly hairy down there anyway.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It's complicated with Aegon. Once again, it truly depends on what your relation is to him. All of the sexual partners he's had in the past have been a feeble attempt to fill the hollowness in his chest, to try and feel what love could feel like, even if it isn't quite true. He's touch starved, and is willing to play along with whoever he pays to facilitate his yearning for affection, even if the coldness lingers stronger than before when it's over.

If you haven't known him long, if you're just a companion he uses so to speak, to feel loved, then don't expect him to be romantic. He'll crave your attention, he'll want nothing more than to feel your arms wrapped around him, fingers combing through his knotted hair as you slowly lull him to sleep. If he's drunk, he may slur a few praises in your ear as he ruts into you, or gaze up at you with half lidded lilac eyes, glaze over from his intoxication but shining up at you as though he could love you.

If you're committed to him and he to you, if he trusts and loves you, then he will most definitely yearn for that intimate aspect when with you. He'll hold you closer, he'll praise you, his touch softer and kisses fuelled with passion. He needs you, and only you can provide him with that moment of feeling cherished, so he tries to return the favour and show you how much he cherishes you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Despite being so lazy, Aegon is always in the mood, whether it be first thing in the morning or in the dead of night, and if you're not there to help him out for some reason, he'll be perfectly content with taking care of himself, although would prefer it if it were you helping him instead.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Aegon has a whole shit ton of kinks, but these are the main ones I think he'd have:

Praise Kink: LOVE THIS MAN. He needs to be loved. He knows he doesn't deserve it, but he desperately wishes for it. Hearing your sweet voice in his ear moaning how good he's doing, how he's making you feel, will make him feel so much closer to you. It will make everything more intimate to him. And it goes both ways, he wants you to know how good you're making him feel, especially if you're in a serious relationship with him.

Body Worship: For the same reason as above. Aegon has trouble articulating how he feels through his words. He prefers to show it, and so he'll worship you like a goddess to show you how much he loves you.

Teasing/Edging/Orgasm Denial: Aegon would both love those used on you and on him. He's a tease, he enjoys hearing you beg for him, tears in your eyes from how overstimulated you are, a sheen of sweat covering your writhing body as you desperately grasp at the bedsheets beneath you. He's not known for being particularly patient or self controlled, but he could spend hours denying you both of your releases if it meant the satisfaction of seeing you so needy for him. On the other hand, he also loves it when he's on the receiving end, completely at your mercy, pathetic whimpers spilling from his lips as he bucks his hips upwards, his attempts at feeling any kind of friction to satiate his desire and frustration proving fruitless and you deny him what he wants.

Public Sex: This man would take such glee in riling you up at family dinners, his hand slipping beneath your skirt, watching as you would lightly gasp as his fingers brush against your core. He'd lazily smirk at the glare you'd send his way, rubbing featherlight circles on your clit. He'd test your limits, bring you close to release before pulling away, going as far as to lick his fingers clean in front of his whole damn family.

Lactation Kink: He's a tit man, and seeing how swollen and round they'd grow with your pregnancy would drive him absolutely wild. When you'd complain about how heavy they'd feel, how they ached, he'd be by your side in an instant, his hands already unlacing the bodice of your dress to free your heavy breasts from their confinements, telling you to relax and let him help you and take care of you.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

He's shameless, he'd do it anywhere. His bedroom, his throne, the pleasure house, the bath, the gardens, the kitchens, on dragon back... pretty much anywhere. Although I feel like when he's crowned King, he'd have a thing for having you on your knees in front of him or sat on his lap while he sits on his throne. Seeing you worship your King... it makes him feel more powerful than he ever has before.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You could walk into a room and look at him for one second longer than usual and he's hard. You could breathe deeply, causing your chest to heave slightly and he's grabbing your hand, pulling you to him. If you really want to get him going, praise him, tease him, he'll be practically dry humping you like a bitch in heat.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

While he wouldn't be opposed to minor degradation, I think that going to far will bring too many scars to the surface. Don't be too mean, he's a sensitive boy. I also think that other than cum and spit, any other bodily fluids would be out of the question.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Both? Both. Both is good.

He loves burying his head between your thighs, making you come undone countless times by just the use of his mouth. He's spends hours testing your limits, seeing what makes you roll your hips against him, or throw your head back in pleasure as you sing his praises. He loves it.

But he also loves it when you unbutton his trousers, lowering yourself to your knees while his hand threads through your hair, eager to pleasure him. Especially when he's sitting on the throne, the conqueror's crown glittering on his head.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends how horny he is. Despite being rather lazy, he can also be desperate, rutting into you like a wild animal so he can reach his release.

However, especially in the mornings, he may prefer to slowly roll his hips against yours {especially if you're in a proper relationship} taking his time as he slowly wakes up from his slumber.

Sex is how he expresses himself, and if he needs to do that in a flurry of passion or a slow, loving way where he just yearns to be close to you and feel you, depends on his mood. He may switch between the two, or even let you set the pace when he's feeling a little lost with himself, his insecurities and self esteem hitting an all time low after a nasty fight with his mother or grandfather.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

I've said it before and I'll say it again. This man's always down for sex. And if that means a quickie against the wall or on the table, he'll be down for it. He'll really love it if that's how you wake him up in the mornings when he's late for his duties, straddling his waist or using your mouth to pleasure him before the day begins. As King of Westeros, his time with you will likely be shorter than before, and a quickie might be all he can do before attending to his duties, so he takes advantage of every moment, no matter how short, to be with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Of course he is. He's down for most things, I'll reckon, and always open to hear suggestions from you for what else you can do to make things interesting in the bedroom.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Always. Horny. I think he could last a few rounds. 3-4 in one night maybe. Especially if you're taking the lead. And if his cock can't take any more for one night, he has his fingers, his tongue... he can find other ways to satisfy you if you're still wanting more.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Have you seen his room? He would not oppose the use of toys at all.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's a brat, he'll happily test your patience and relentlessly tease you to see how long it takes for you to snap. And on the other side, he'll secretly revel in you teasing him, taking your time to pleasure him. Cockwarming is a favourite of his, he can last a long time with you squirming on top of him, his hands planted firmly on your waist, trapping you in place as he sees how long it takes for one of you to break, almost like a game to him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He doesn't care who hears him. When you make him feel as good as you do, he wants you to know. He'll let out loud, breathy moans and low groans and grunts in your ear. He also whimpers a lot, especially if you're in control and teasing him, refusing to grant him his release. He doesn't care how pathetic it sounds, he can't hold it in, and he wants you to know how good you're making you feel.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

This man is a switch. Yes, he will be a submissive brat, whimpering from your touch and begging for you to let him cum, but he can also easily turn the tables on you so you're the one crying for him to fuck you. He can be quite dominant when he wants, bending you over the nearest surface and hiking up your skirts, fucking you raw as you grab onto whatever he's pinned you down on so tightly your knuckles turn white, crying out in pain as he'd tug your hair roughly.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's about average in length above average in girth. It's thick, I know it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high. He always craving you, always wanting you, which can be a blessing or a curse depending on your sex drive. Even in his sleep he's grinding against you, only to wake up in the middle of the night, hard as a rock.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Honestly? Pretty damn quick. Especially if you pull him into your arms, running your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead. He'll be out within minutes, snoring softly. However, if you do need something {a bath or something to eat etc} he will make sure that's done for you first.

If you wanted to be added to the general HOTD taglist or taglists for specific character/s, just let me know

Masterlist

#Aegon Targaryen #Aegon Targaryen x reader #Aegon Targaryen headcanon #Hotd #Hotd x reader #Hotd headcanon #House of the dragon #House of the dragon x reader #House of the dragon headcanon #Aegon Targaryen x you #Hotd x you #House of the dragon x you #Aegon Targaryen headcanons #Hotd headcanons #House of the dragon headcanons

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arabellasleopardcoat · 10 months

Text

Canvas of imagination (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: On the eve of Rhaenyra's wedding, Daemon decides the best gift he can give to the father of the bride is a dreamer. A shame said dreamer does not seem to share the joy of the occasion.

Warnings: Kidnapping. Period typical misogyny. Violence. Unflattering depiction of characters (You might hate me for this)

A/N: Remember please, Daemon is an unreliable narrator. Here is where things start to get dark. I researched genetics for this and ended up really insecure. Read the previous part here.

There are many ways of silencing women. Murder is, of course, one. It’s not an elegant solution, but it is an effective one. It ensures the victim takes her secrets to the grave. Daemon likes to think himself more elegant than that.

There is, too, the possibility of a ruined reputation. But that strategy is one that is only effective towards women of a certain standing. You can hardly ruin what are already damaged goods, and a bastard certainly counts as damaged goods.

Daemon still could chuck you off Caraxes mid-flight. Yet, it does not seem like a good idea, either. Each one of your servants saw you get chained to his saddle. Not even Viserys’s intervention could save him from the angry mob of commoners that would await his return to the Vale.

Besides, he likes you there, mounted on his dragon. For once, quiet, too scared of screaming and disturbing Caraxes. Daemon likes the lack of noise, but he likes your presence much more. It would be foolish to silence a dreamer forever.

You need other kinds of chains. To tie you to him. Silencing you, when he does not want to hear. One often used for Targaryen women.

Marriage. A Bronze Bitch for another. But not exactly, is it? Not if you can truly see the future.

Perhaps this was meant to happen, then. As a way of honoring his ancestors. Grabbing a pretty maid, one with Valyrian gifts and…

Well. Children are another kind of chain, right? He is still not sold on the perks of bedding you. You are wrong. Too dark, too different. Nothing like Rhaenyra, and slightly older than her. But Daemon knows the children you will birth him will be strong. The gift on you is, after all.

To be able to look so far into the future speaks of a power unseen before. Targaryens have not been blessed by many dreamers in the last generations, and the few times they were, their gifts were fickle and weak. Not far enough to allow them to see further than days. The last time someone was able to look further was in the age of Aegon the Conqueror.

It must mean Valyrian descent. Nothing else is an acceptable answer. Even if you don’t look it.

Daemon mounts behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You feel soft in his arms. Perhaps bedding you will not be as bad. He had been afraid that you would be like Rhea. Those inquisitive eyes of her, the body as hard as the body of any man. They were not features he enjoyed on a female partner. It always turned him off.

It was not that he had refused to consummate the marriage. He wasn’t able to bed her, the awful bitch. Not only were her features off-putting, but her attitude. She was constantly trying to sit on his hips, push him down, and he couldn’t stand it. Daemon felt trapped. Emasculated.

He had to chase the shame, the powerlessness away, somehow. That was how he got started fucking whores, collecting maidenheads. It was much better when women were maidens. Easier. He likes the contrasts, Daemon has realized. Half women, half children are always more entertaining to play with.

You are not Rhea. You feel different in his arms. Your body is soft, all sweet limbs. There are no harsh muscles on your arms, and you smell like fresh baked pastries. Rhea always smelled of horse.

You are a girl, not a warrior like your sister was. Yet, you share her wild spirit. All the delicious curves of womanhood are already formed, a delicious pair of tits and hips that could drive any man to insanity.

Your parentage is a bit more undesirable, though. As the daughter of a whore, your innocence could be sullied. Daemon would have to ask if you were passed around when younger. He doubted it, but just in case. If you had not, bedding you would be the most fun he had in years. Open-minded, hot-blooded, but pure. It was not often you found that in a woman.

You try to squirm, but are too well bound. Getting too comfortable for his liking.

“Soves. ” He orders. Caraxes obeys. You shriek in terror, and Daemon hugs you harder against him. That, too, he likes. The helplessness, the honest reaction of someone who was denied her birthright. The amazement, once you settle down and notice that Caraxes will not drop you.

Riding Caraxes is always a thrill. It’s even more thrilling when he has a captive audience. There is something about it that does it for him. Showing others the might of true Targaryens always makes him proud.

He wants to show you all the things you have missed, being born of a whore and a Royce. It’s clear you don’t belong here, among the bronze piles of the Vale. You belong with him, on dragonback. And no one is taking you away from him.

The servants, your servants, according to the Bronze Bitch’s will, can only watch as the dragon rises in the air. No one dares deny Targaryens anything, not when faced with the truth of their strength.

Daemon perches his chin right on top of your head, so close his chest is flush with your back. Your screams do not bother him. You might be terrified, after a life spent living on the ground. But Targaryens are born to be in the skies. You will get used to it.

“Oh, Lady Cuffs, you have much to learn.” He kisses your temple, once you have screamed your throat raw and finally quieted down.

The first time he had ridden Caraxes, Daemon had, too, screamed until his voice gave. He had thought back then, like many Targaryens did, that if his egg didn’t hatch, he would get no dragon. The moment is clear in his memory. Heart beating loud in his chest, screaming commands in High Valyrian, and the absolute certainty that Caraxes was going to burn him to a crisp. Then, as he came down from sheer terror to amazement, he understood why his egg didn’t hatch.

It was a lesson. To take what he wanted, what was his by right. Targaryens were conquerors, not whiny children. It was what had got him thinking about Lady Laena, in the first place. The amount of confidence one needed to claim a dragon that big, it spoke of a power within.

Not as yours was, of course. You may lack the confidence, but you had power in spades. Dreamers were often like that. Or they were supposed to be, according to his studies. Daenys had been. A fragile little thing, scared of shadows and set on leaving Valyria behind. It had been what saved them, in the end.

Daemon wonders what it must be like to be haunted by terrors in your sleep. Some real, some imagined. How could one possible tell the difference between the two? It would lead a fragile mind to insanity.

What had it done to you? Seeing your sister’s death, thinking it a nightmare, and then watch it come to life in front of your eyes?

Fear. Horror. A cornered animal reaction, wanting to fight an opponent that could crush you like a bug if he so wished. Your loyalty to Rhea was commendable, though.

The thought of you having to go through that makes him uncomfortable. Something about the death of a sibling upsets him. Viserys. Oh, Viserys. Can’t live with him, but can’t live without him, either.

No. He needs a distraction. He is not willing to go down that road now.

“Dracarys!” Daemon screams, fighting to project his voice over the wind. As expected, you flinch and let out a tiny scream. He hides his smirk in your hair. He wonders if you would squeal like that when he took you.

A bit of fear makes for a better fuck. Lovers tend to turn pliant in the face of pain. Women's cunts flutter delightfully when choked. And you are already so responsive.

“This cannot be happening.” You mutter, under your breath. Your voice sounds small and confused. Lost. “This defies all the laws.”

“Targaryens have married sisters before,” Daemon speaks over your ear. Despite knowing that's not how dreamers work, he can't help but taunt you. It's amusing to him, how you struggle and huff. “You must have seen this already. You will make a good wife, in time.”

“I am not a dreamer!” You scream, and if he could see your face now, he would bet you are scowling. It matters not, really. Whatever you say. You would do anything to get him to let you go.

Daemon knows the truth. He has done his investigation about you. It would be no good, if he were mistaken and presented Viserys with something less. His good gesture would be ruined.

You would earn him his forgiveness. Daemon is willing to share you with Viserys, if that's what Viserys wants. He wants to keep you, so Daemon wouldn't gift you to him. But share you? It's a good gesture to show the honesty of his words.

Let it not be said that Daemon Targaryen is not humble in victory.

“Deny it all you want.” Daemon turns a finger over the middle of your back, making you shiver and try to move away from the touch. Oh, such a fierce spirit. A shame it's wasted, with how well you are tied to the saddle. “You have some Valyrian blood in you.”

“I do not!” You scream, and tilt your head to the side to glare at him. You have pretty eyes and the most enchanting nose. Closer to a goddess than a woman. How can you not be a Targaryen?

Your hair is the wrong shade. So are your eyes. But most of the time, First Men features overpower Targaryen ones. Dammed your father. Useless rat, that Yohn Royce. But at least he had given him you.

“You will birth me silver haired babes.” Daemon can do the math. With you being half Valyrian, the odds of you giving him what he wants are higher. He places his hand on your stomach, sneaking it behind the apron and touching the soft linen dress you wear.

Daemon imagines what it will be like, to see you swell with his child. The skin over your womb is warm and soft. You are young, closer to Rhaenyra's age than his. You look healthy and strong. A good environment for a child to grow in. And by the look of your bosom, you would produce good milk, too.

The thought makes him suddenly hungry. His cock twitches in interest. Ah. Good to know that your coloring won’t bring forth the same performance issues Rhea’s had.

This time, you squirm harder. Your ass rolls against his hips. Daemon rolls his hips against you, delighting in the friction. "Oh, you temptress.” He laughs.

He can't wait to have you, pinned under him and forcing you to take and take until his seed breeds true. How you would struggle, hips trying to escape him before surrendering to the sheer pleasure of it all.

“You are disgusting!” You buck against him, all wild mare. You have yet to be mounted and it shows. He bets once he does, you will be all sweet. Daemon is not cruel enough to deny you the pleasure. But you seem upset, and so he tries to reassure you.

“Just think, how strong, how true our children will be. With the blood of Old Valyria, flowing through their veins.”

It seems like the thought is not as reassuring for you as it is for him, since you start tearing up. He will have to tread more carefully. It’s clear your time with the Bronze Bitch has affected you. Perhaps, too, growing up in a whore’s house. You must have some strange ideas of women not needing marriage, or men, to lead their lives.

It was good, that Rhea got you when she had. You could have been sold or auctioned like any other woman. Taken up the profession of your mother. But you hadn’t. He knows it by the way you flinch, when he trails his hands over your ribs, when he presses his lips to your temple. Whores are used to touches like those. They melt into them. Not you.

“I’m not Valyrian!” You scream, trashing. Daemon smooths your hair down, tenderly. Perhaps this will soften you, he thinks. Many bastards share the longing for learning about their origins, after all. You should be no different.

“Your mother was, though.”

“What? No, she wasn't!” Your shrill tone makes him flinch. Gods, what a pair of lungs you have. And you are so set on disguising your origins, too. As if Daemon can’t tell. As if he can’t recognize one of his own when he sees them.

“I asked the servants about you.” He squeezes your shoulder, trying to sound encouraging. He wonders what it must be like, to carry so deep a shame you are set on denying the obvious. If Daemon had been born of a whore, without his Targaryen blood, he would be ashamed too. “They said you bathed every day. Only whores do that. And you don’t keep male company.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Your voice comes out high and questioning, confused. Oh, his poor, sheltered girl. Thinking your behavior was normal.

“You must have learned it somewhere.” He brushes his thumb against the shell of your ear. It’s a tiny thing, and soft. You give a sweet shiver, and it confirms his suspicions. You have not been touched in such a way before. Not a whore. Only the daughter of one. "Your father was said to frequent a brothel in King’s Landing, one that I’m well acquainted with. They only have Valyrian stock.”

You splutter, and whip your head to the side. You are not allowed much movement, with your binds. But gods, you try. The sliver of your face he can see is twisted in righteous anger. Similar to when he confessed to finishing the Bronze Bitch.

“Stock? How can you refer to women like that!” And it comes out so righteous, so fierce. His little warrior. Yes, it’s clear he is right about your origins. No one else would launch themselves in such a passionate defense of whores. A shame, he can’t seem to resist to riling you up.

“Oh, I have much lovelier names for women. I called your sister the Bronze Bitch.”

You let out a fierce little scream, now bucking and twisting and shifting, trying to get any kind of retribution for the slight. What a joy you must be in the sheets, all that unbridled force and passion, turning into a single objective. You just have to learn to aim it right.

“Don’t you dare speak of her like that! She is the most…” And you choke up a sob, realizing that Rhea was, not is. You do not speak the words, curling into yourself like a scared child. Hurt and sad for the first time since he took you.

“Was.” Daemon says, very quietly, and this time he is unable to distract himself from the thought. Daemon thinks of Viserys, of how angry he would be were someone to hurt him. No matter if they had parted in anger, no matter if they had not spoken a word.

He hugs you to him. You fight him, at first, but then you are sobbing too hard, too panicked to do anything about it. He presses a kiss to your nape. Even in tears and sweaty with your efforts, you smell perfect. All sweet pure maiden.

Eventually, your body sags. Daemon wonders if you accepted your fate or merely fell asleep. He doesn’t ask. The rest of the ride is uneventful. You wake up, later on, squirming in your bounds before sagging in defeat. No more words are exchanged between the two of you.

Landing is quite the interesting experience. Lyonel Strong, wearing the Hand's brooch. Next to him, stands the Kingsguard and a couple of Citywatchs.

“Is that a serving girl?” Crispin, Chris, whatever his name is, asks. He must think himself so sly, muttering under his breath.

“You were vanished.” Lyonel deadpans, eyeing you with vague interest. You scowl at him and tug on your bonds, again. Admirable persistence.

“Ah, Lyonel.” He gets off the saddle and carefully unchains you from it, making sure that your hands remain bound. Daemon keeps a tight grip on the chain from your cuffs, as he pulls you down into his arms. You kick and scream. The Kingsguard look vaguely concerned, but the gold cloaks don't even blink. They had been his men a few years back. They are used to such things.

He is not getting any younger, Daemon realizes. With you, he might need to get a better training regime because he is winded from the struggle. It's almost thrilling. You will keep him on his toes.

Daemon addresses Lyonel once again, dragging you forward.

“Summon Viserys, would you? I have something to show him.”

Good thing it’s not Otto Hightower anymore, or else he would have been detained on the spot. Lyonel is slightly softer to him, too honor-bound to let his personal feelings get in the way.

“Another of your whores?” The man asks, face unchanged. He would look at ease were it not for the way he is pressing his lips together in a grim line. No doubt remembering the Mysaria episode.

You keep struggling, rubbing your poor wrists raw. Daemon will have to tend to that later.

“Help! Help! Please!” You plead to Lyonel, once he is close enough. His lips twitch. Ah, the Strongs. Always ready to jump in rescue of a fair maiden. Your cries seem to be weakening the resolve of the Hand, and Daemon can’t have that.

Daemon places a possessive arm over your hips, showing you off. The possessive gesture will distract Lyonel from his rescue attempt, he is sure. No one gets between a Prince and his lovers, willing or not.

“No, actually. This time, the Lady is still a maiden. Although she won’t be much longer.” He smirks.

You flinch, your whole body tensing under his grip. Lyonel looks torn. He can’t order Daemon to let go of you, as for all he knows, you are but a serving girl. If you were a Lady, what he is doing might mean war. No one here cares about commoners.

Surprisingly, your rescuer is another. The dornish knight, jumping in, without the bow of his commander or the Lord Hand.

“I’ll go get the King, Lord Hand.” Good gods, what were they teaching the dornish these days? Not an ounce of respect on that one. He was getting too cocky for Daemon’s liking. He might have unseated him, but he lacked manners.

Daemon glares at Lyonel. Lyonel glares right back. The Kingsguard square behind Lyonel, menacingly, but the City Watch remains undecided on the side. Daemon grips your cuffs harder.

Crispin, Chris, whatever, comes out again after a few minutes, with an aggravated looking Viserys. You start shrieking, again, and trying harder to escape. No one pays you any mind.

“I told you I didn’t want to see you again.” Viserys says, but his eyes crinkle. He has cooled down. Daemon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He still has everything to play for. Forgiveness is on the way.

“I think she might earn my forgiveness.” He tugs at your cuffs, bringing you slightly forward. You scowl, fiercely. “A gift, brother.”

“You come to offer me a whore? You are insane. Or drunk. Or both.” Viserys arches an eyebrow, but takes a good look at you. Daemon can’t blame him for it. You are a pretty thing, young and healthy.

Despite someone who claims offense at being offered a whore, Viserys surely looks interested. He steps closer to him, trapping you between them both. It’s Viserys, in quite the bold move, who tilts your chin up with a finger. You snarl at him, bucking backwards and right into Daemon’s chest.

“Careful. She bites. Special breed, from the Vale. All bitches.” And it’s not even funny, but it makes Viserys laugh, and that’s all that matters to him. Viserys’s laughter prompts the rest of the sycophants knights to do so as well. Only Lyonel and the dornish man remain disapproving.

“I’m quite busy at the moment, brother.” Viserys steps back, giving Daemon a long look. Unable not to twist the knife because otherwise they wouldn’t be related, he adds. “I’m in the middle of planning a wedding.”

“Ah. Congratulations are in order, then. Think of this as a wedding gift to the father of the bride.” Daemon pushes you forward, and then, insistently, to kneel. You resist, impudent little thing that you are. He pushes harder, until you kneel in front of Viserys with a sullen expression. “What better omen for a marriage than a little dreamer?”

Viserys goes suddenly serious, the hint of a smile at his antics long gone. This time, when he looks at you, his eyes are much more searching. First, to your hair. Then, your eyes. Then, to his face, incredulous.

“If this is your idea of a joke, Daemon…”

Daemon gives him a look. He would not joke about it, knowing how much Viserys has longed to be connected to that side of their heritage. He never understood it. Dreams were a powerful tool, but could be hard to differentiate from just nightmares. And what had made them conquerors had not been dreams, but dragons. That had been the part that interested him.

They had talked, once, of sharing a woman. Back when they were much younger, much less troubled. He tried to let that shine in his eyes, too. This was not something he was keeping to himself, it was a gift to his brother. If Viserys asked, Daemon would say yes in a heartbeat. Anything to make him happier. To protect him. Your dreams might not get him another kingdom, but would help keep Viserys safe and secure Rhaenyra's claim.

The silence stretched. Then, Viserys, looking absolutely fascinated and dumbfounded, stepped aside.

“Inside the throne room. Anyone else, leave us!”

As the guards scrambled to obey, Daemon tugged you inside. Viserys entered the room first, and grabbed the chain, as Daemon made sure to close the door after them. Working together with a fluidity not seen since the days of their youth.

Daemon smiled. Not even a day in your company, and you were already fixing things in the way he had wanted you to.

Viserys let go of your chain, eyeing you with quite a bit of precaution. All for naught. Instead of attacking, you tried to flee. Daemon grabbed you, and spun you to face him.

“You say she is a dreamer.” Viserys sits down on the throne, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“She is. The bastard sister of my newly deceased wife.” Daemon can’t help but boast. He is proud of finding you. Of the smile that has formed on Viserys face. “You know how it was. Yohn Royce and his precious Silver Dragon.”

“Lady Rhea is dead?” Viserys frowns. Still, he doesn’t look too upset. Perhaps a bit angry, but Daemon knows he will forgive him for it. What is the murder of a woman no one loved to the acquisition of a dreamer?

“He killed her!” You scream, unable to help yourself. Ah. Curse him, he was mistaken. Someone loved the Bronze Bitch. But it didn’t count. You were her sister and she had rescued you from a brothel. You were morally obligated to. It didn’t count.

“Shut up, little girl. I didn’t.” Which, yes, he had, but it would be better to give Viserys plausible deniability. Safer that way.

“Yes, you did. I saw.” You grin at him, menacingly. Daemon arches an eyebrow. It seemed your nap had given you the energy to be defiant. Again. Good gods, you were like a child. Having to be put to bed, pacified, taken care of. On and on the list went. Daemon was not sure that he was ready for the responsibility of parenting a recently legitimized Targaryen. Your manners were atrocious, and you were so young and so soft.

Rhea had taught you nothing of use. Perhaps to read books and ride horses, but it was clear she hadn't hardened you as she was. You had no idea of politics or respect for your King. Soft. Sheltered. A blessing in disguise? Or a curse?

“That will be a problem, dreamer or not.” Viserys interrupts. It’s clear what he means. Daemon has to fix it. Because the Seven forbid Viserys is the one to get his hands dirty. He likes to believe he is above Daemon, in that sense. That he has some sort of morals that go beyond caring for Rhaenyra.

He has not. His tastes are the same as Daemon's. Fire and blood and all that came with it, but with the delusion of having some great sense of morality.

“Give her to me. The Bronze Bitch left her everything she had. I can keep the Vale and the little girl in line.” Daemon quickly says, ignoring your indignant yelp and trashing. “I’ll marry her.”

“Allow you to own a dreamer?” Viserys raises his brows, looking doubtful. “Don’t you think it’s too much? If she truly is one, of course…”

“Show him, Lady Cuffs.”

You remain in obstinate silence. Daemon feels the urge to scream. Clearly, the Royce genes ran strong because Seven Hells you were infuriating.

“Didn’t you say you could keep her in line?” Viserys taunts, amused. Oh, if Daemon could, he would spank your pretty arse red from that defiance. Little brat that you are, it would be a fitting punishment.

He can’t do much more, not without endangering you. Neither Viserys nor him are experts on dreamers. They have been oddities during the history of their house. Their lessons on them were far less detailed than on dragons.

The upkeeping and care of one would require research. But some things are clear from the start. Dreamers shouldn't be hurt. Or too traumatized. They might get nightmares, and that would make their powers wane.

Daemon needs to scare you into thinking he will hurt you, but not actually do it. How to scare you into compliance and punish you, but not hurt you? He looks at the Iron Throne, and suddenly, an idea sparks into his mind. You are, in many ways, a child. And a man is allowed to discipline his wife.

Daemon unsheathes his sword, making as much noise as possible. You flinch, clearly recognizing the sound. He bangs it against your vulnerable behind, making you jolt forward and yelp. Not only it must have hurt, but the sound echoed in the throne room. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, surprised and a little teary-eyed. Viserys smiles.

"Answer his question. Properly." Daemon orders. You look between him and Viserys, clearly unsure. He gives you a few moments, but when you are taking too long for his liking, Daemon raises his sword again. The words nearly tumble out in your haste to speak.

"I… Your wife. Aemma, she held on to you and begged you to not let them cut her. You held her down. Monster.” You say to Viserys, now openly crying. Daemon blinks. Now that was something he didn’t know.

Viserys’s anger at the “heir for a day” comment is suddenly framed in a new light. Guilt. The fool. Daemon would never do something like that to you. A dreamer is too valuable of an asset.

“Something more pleasant.” He orders, swinging the sword. You try to dance away from the hit, but you are unable to. You give another cry.

“You have a dagger. With Aegon’s dream. And the Lady Alicent visited you in your chambers, wearing one of her mother’s dresses, after Aemma passed.” This time, Daemon keeps a close eye on Viserys’s face, instead of you. His face is slack, jaw hanging open. Apparently, you are telling the truth. He wonders what other seedy secrets about him you know.

Daemon raises his sword, ready to hit your bottom again.

“That’s enough, Daemon. You proved your point. You can marry her.” Viserys says, voice shaky. He is clearly overcome by what you know and by the methods needed to extract the information from you. Viserys is about to give you to him. He has realized he will not be able to handle you.

Daemon doesn't mind. To be kept safe, every King needs someone willing to get their hands dirty. He has done much worse, and that was not even in the hopes of protecting Viserys and Rhaenyra.

“No, no, no…” You protest, pitifully. Your whole face is streaked with tears.

“Thank you, brother.” Daemon answers, smirking. Never has he felt more victorious. He gives another slap to your behind, this time with his hand. Viserys nearly smiles at your indignant shriek. “Oh, Lady Wife, no one asked for your opinion.”

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon x y/n #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon smut #daemon x oc #daemon x reader #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon #divine intuition series #cristi angers her followers #part... who knows

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angelltheninth · 4 months

Note

From those flirting prompts could you do no.3 with Daemon?

I can, I haven't written for HOTD in a while, I'd like to some more.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, secret relationship, kissing, slight angst, possessive Daemon Targaryen

A/N: Really happy that everyone is liking these shorter posts. They work really well for writers block.

3. "I can't stop thinking about you."

Why did something done in secret, behind everyone's back feel so good? When Daemon's lips were against yours, his body pressing you against the wall and his hands keeping your thighs pinned against his hips you didn't care how much trouble you'd get in if you were found out.

He pulled away from your swollen lips, his own red as well, his breath quick, "How I've missed doing that."

"I could tell. From the way you looked at me in the ballroom I thought you'd had enough of our pretend act." The tone in which you said it was both teasing yet hopeful. Your hands massaged the back of Daemon's head as your lips closed in again, kissing him before you let any more things slip.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you." Daemon seemed to want to talk in between those kisses however. "Everyone wonders why I've stopped inviting women to my bedroom. If only I could show them you and watch them go red from anger any envy." He would use you to slight those who he deems worthy of punishment, those who would want to see you married off to another. "Princess. One day, before our wedding day, I will make you mine." He promised.

You knew what he meant. For all the times you'd met in secret he'd never taken anything from you, he only gave.

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fluff #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #got headcanons #got imagine #x female reader

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dulcewrites · 1 year

Text

Fire & Desire

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (mentioned) , Aegon ii Targaryen x reader (wc: 2.2k)

Summary: Many sacrifices have been made to get Aegon on the throne. Including ones made by you

A/N: this had been sitting in my drafts for sooo long. I thought I’d revise it a bit, give me a bit of a break from fool me once. Hope y’all like it 🫶🏽🫶🏽. Sorry if there is lots of typos this was sort of posted on a whim

When Aegon becomes King, it is up to us to guild him in the right direction. To have the ear of your husband is ever important…. That may mean giving things up in return.

The words had been ringing in your head all night. Along with the image of Alicent’s uncomfortable grimace. Your instinct was the ask her what she meant by that; play silly and confused. Easily moldable and docile, the way most people like.

But you know your good mother too well for that. She knows all. You should have seen this moment coming.

The next thing you wanted to do was apologize. Tell her that you do not know how you got yourself in this predicament. But Aegon has never been one to apologize for his indiscretions, so why should you. All you can give her a curt nod.

You know she advices you without any malice. The bolstering hate you sometimes saw in Queen Alicent, the kind you see in all her children in different dosages, had cooled to a melancholy resentment over the years. She’s grown older, a bit wiser. Or maybe she is just tired.

The type of debilitating exhaustion that only women would get. Women forced to do the bidding of those around them.

It was never going to be simple. It is never easy with this family. An heir that is never around, a dead King that was never suited from the job, and a circle of scheming noblemen. Recipe for chaos and destruction.

Alicent does not have the hope to be disappointed anymore. Everything is for survival now. So much has been given up for this, and now comes your time to pay the price. Just like Alicent has.

If she knows, you can assume that means Aegon does too. He is more observant than anyone would give him for.

There are days he looks at you, and you think he can tell what you have been up to. He can look right through you and see what his brother did to you that morning, or late the night before.

Does he wonder where you run off to, the way you did with him at the beginning of your marriage. When there was a blinding and painful need to make it work. If he does know, you are surprised he has not said anything to do… or to Aemond. Aegon’s emotions flow hot and wild. Being on the opposite end of it is a sight. But then he levels off, normally numbs whatever he feels with wine or whores. He is simple in a complicated way.

If he has any inkling about what you have been doing, he has not made it known. You don’t know if that is a relief or if it hurts. None of that Targaryen madness dealt out for his wife.

Your thoughts are broken when he stalks in. Freshly washed, slight bruises on his face, and wrapped in despair.

He does now acknowledge for presence, just climbs into bed after blowing out the few candles on his side of the room. The two of you lay in silence before you feel like you will crawl out of your skin if you do not say anything.

“I will stop seeing him… in that way,” you say into the darkness, voice stronger than you thought it would be. “If that pleases you.”

You turn from your back to your side to face him; you are greeted with a eyeful of silvery hair that seems to glow in the dark. His back facing you, rigid and uncomfortable.

“Aegon, did yo-“

“I heard you the first time,” he sighs, interrupting you.

There is more silence. You continue to stare at his back, till he slowly turns to face you. Even in the dark you can see the frown on his face. The moonlight illuminating him It is like speaking with his mother all over again. Does Alicent look at Aegon and get frightened? To give birth to someone who looks so much like you but disappoints you so deeply must be haunting. A terrible mirror to have.

“I am surprised you are even admitting it,” he mutters.

You decide not to tell him that the admission comes at the behest of his mother. There is no need to add to the list of things that splitter that relationship.

“We are going to need each other, now more than never. I am willing to admit… wrongdoing and repent for it. But we both have to do that for it to work.”

Your tongue feels heavy calling whatever Aemond, and you have wrongdoing. The proper term for it does not come because you don’t know what you two are. Lovers, confidants, prisoners. It’s all the same.

The frown deep softens a bit.

“Aenar is mine.”

It comes out like statement, but you suppose it is meant to be a question. Aenar is all Aegon is best and worst ways. Sweet cherubic features and a rambunctious spirit. They even pout in the same way when they do not get what they want. They are so alike that it stupidly makes you wonder at what age he will let you down. The way his father has before him.

“He is yours,” you whisper. “A tiny terror.”

Aegon lets out a short fit of playful laughter. The affection Aegon has towards the kids is something you were constantly taken aback by. When he was around, and in his right mind, he is electric with them. It made you a bit jealous. You pushed your body to the max, and Aenar follows him like he is a god. A Targaryen God.

“But Valaena…” he trials off bitterly.

You do not answer immediately. While Aemond barely even looked at you by the time you became pregnant with Aenar, things were different by the time you had your little girl. Your relationship with Aemond sweet and syrupy. The glow of intimacy neither of you had experienced before.

“No, she is yours.”

It is easier to say that, her features still soft and indiscernible. You think she is his. You hope for his sake she is. Aegon becomes extra warm around her. Baby talk and soft looks of love.

Perhaps you hope he is for her sake as well. If Aemond thinks Valaena is his daughter, he makes no effort to show it. At first, you thought it was him being smart. Knowing that taking too much of a liking would be suspicious. Then you quickly learned he just has no interest in that part of you. Sometimes you fear he sees that extension of you, your kids, as obstacles instead.

Living and breathing embodiments of the duty you put first.

“You would really stop,” Aegon rips you from his thoughts. “Tell Aemond that it is done?”

His voice lifts intrigued. A different conversation you had with Alicent floats in your mind.

Their want for different things keeps them from expressing their love, but it is there.

“Will you stop fathering flea bottom bastards?”

Aegon scoffs at your question, but nonetheless shuffles closer to you. He smells like lemon and roses.

“This is going to be so bad,” his voice wobbles a bit.

You want to agree, because it will; it is going to be blood spilling amounts of terrible. Instead of expressing that you lean forward too.

It is how the two of you fall asleep. Foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, and slow breathes mangled together.

Is that what having your husband’s ear is like?

You know you are staring, unabashedly and grotesquely.

The only saving grace being that you are not the only one. Everyone in the dragon pit has their gaze on Aegon. Small folk watch on in confusion or admiration. Everyone on the stage hold more somber or stoic faces. Everyone accept Otto that is, who looks as pleased as you have ever seen him.

Alicent’s face is serenely flat. Helaena cannot look at her brother for too long, looking away at times. You do not dare turn to see Aemond’s reaction. Especially not after avoiding him all morning. There was a sinking feeling you got when your lady in waiting told he was outside of the door. Cowardly, you told her to tell him you were occupied. You did not know what to say to him yet.

Now all you can do if stare, and fiddle with the crisp fabric of your mute pink and gardenia dress.

It is terribly quiet in the pit. It only makes the affair even more uneasy.

There is something so devastatingly beautiful about his tear-stained face. You enjoy Aegon like this. Needy, helpless, and metaphorically flat on his back with shock and despair.

When he finally rises, Conqueror’s crown on his head, his eyes darts to everyone on stage. When his large, watery eyes finally get to you, you try to give him an encouraging smile. You are sure it reads more painful than reassuring or comforting. You bow your head expectedly.

King Aegon, Second of His Name. Gods helps you all.

The tides change once he turns to face the crowd. When the cheers start, there goes your meek Aegon. He lifts Blackfyre with a vigor you have never seen from your husband. There is a satisfaction that radiates off him. It’s stunning and terrifying to watch.

Despite everything, your eyes tear themselves away long enough to briefly glance at Aemond. If Aegon’s feeling burn fast and dissipate to light fizzles of hate, then Aemond’s resentment simmers for years, and flares when the flames are fanned.

His eyes never leave his brother’s back. Everyone enraptured by Aegon’s attitude change for different reasons.

The cheers reach their peak, and foolishly you think maybe things will be alright.

Then everything goes black.

This is going to be so bad

It is only in the comfort of his own chambers, where Aemond feels like he can finally let out the breath he has been holding in for days.

His stomach has been in knots for days, waves nausea fluttering in certain moments. It reminds him of after he first lost his eye. He would get such painful headaches that it made sick.

Now it is not his lack of an eye ailing him, it is you.

He should have known something was wrong when you would not allow him to see you. The necklace was missing too. The sterling silver locket with a sparkling sapphire in the middle of it. You had not taken it off since he gifted it to you… till today.

Aemond knows what it means.

You could barely meet his eye, as if you think your rejection would break him. He would rather gouge his other eye out than give Aegon the satisfaction of that.

The only time you seemed aware of his presence is when you squeezed his arm when they were all face to face with Meleys. The squeeze was surprisingly strong. Though it was not a scared squeeze, it was almost reassuring. You were ready to die. You had told him one night; whispered it in the dark. You knew it would be coming, and sooner than you wanted.

“Of course, we are going to die young,” you smile with little mirth. “Think of family we are in.”

You had only expressed sadness for your children. That you hope when that time comes someone kind will take care of them and prayed, they would remember you as a gentle mother.

What a way it would’ve been to die at the fire of dragon. You, him, his siblings, and his mother… one big happy family.

Aemond decides not to tell you that sometimes he goes in Valaena’s room and just looks. He waits for the paternal instincts to kick in. One day he expects to look and see flashes of himself. As of now all he sees is your eyes. He supposes that is the next best thing. He already must see his brother, and mini version of him that hides behind your skirts.

He has no desire to take care a child right now, and he is not even sure she is his. But to be bound to you another way would be so lovely. So many parts of him are now yours, and vice versa. What is one more?

Aemond is not mad. He finds the whole idea of a mad Targaryen a bit macabre, even for his taste.

But he sees visions of Aegon sitting the throne with you at his side as queen and thinks it would be ok to see King’s Landing up in flames. Even better if he is the one to light the fire.

He saw the way your demeanor instantly shifted. Tending to hurt small folk, telling guards where to go and what to do. There was not a lick of fear in your eyes when someone addressed you as the queen. In fact, Aemond was sure he saw a flicker of glee run through your eyes. He cannot fault the self-serving side of you. He wishes to devour it the way he wishes to devour every other part of you.

You would have never agreed to marry Aegon if this outcome was not a possibility. Giving up a chance to have your name in the history books as Queen and your son as future heir is not an opportunity you would give up. Certainly not for him. Aemond knows Rhaenyra is coming. If not his half-sister, then his uncle will be plotting and planning. So, he will do what he always does. Sit and wait. One eye firmly on his clever girl.

When the spark is finally set, he hopes you two will burn together.

#Aegon… girl dad?#so true #obsessive Aemond? so true #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd imagine

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unicorncornflakes · 5 months

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Summer Isles - Modern!Aemond x Reader | Modern!Aegonx Reader | Chapter 3

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (As soon as posible)

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After two years in the Summer Isles, Aemond returns from his international stay during his doctorate ready to be with the girl he left Westeros for.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: Not at this moment, maybe later :P This is the best I can write these days, sorry :( I have realised during my ausence that this is a Aegon x Reader too, so...

General Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @bluevxnus @hiddencurator @tempt-ress @watercolorskyy @tsujifreya @qyburnsghost @thetrueblackheart

Tag-List for this series (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @snh96 @zenka69 @darkenchantress

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 5.5K

You grabbed your bag and stood up from the table where you were sitting. You lowered the short, violet dress you were wearing that night. It had too little fabric for your taste, but Alys had insisted that you had bought it toward two years for some special reason and she insisted that you wear it for her birthday celebration. You remembered Aemond murmuring that you were very pretty and your cheeks had flushed slightly.

At that moment you felt stupid watching him dance with Alys. She pressed her body against him on the dance floor of that exclusive club, where Aemond had gotten a VIP section for his girlfriend's birthday. For his beloved Alys and all her friends. That included you. However, after watching Alys rub her butt against Aemond's crotch for the twenty-third time that night you felt out of place. It wasn't that you had counted the times she had made that move, or that you had a game in which you used to take a drink every time she did it... how many hangovers hadn't been because of that move... No, really No. You wore very well than your best friend came out with the boy you liked since high school. You were doing terribly well. You were only going home because you couldn't stand those high heels or that short dress anymore. The atmosphere of that club. Crowded with people and with an oppressive temperature…

You said goodbye to all your friends on the pretext that your head hurt and Shiera and her bicolor eyes knew that you were lying, but she didn't give it any more importance. She was the only friend who had let you know that Alys' move had been too low when she started dating Aemond when it was obvious that you liked him. But did you like Aemond? Of course not. Of course not. You had always been friends and there was a sacred rule about not going out with friends. Things broke down and that's why you had never done anything... Right? Another lie that you always told yourself to calm your sad mood.

You left the club and found yourself on the street in the rain and Sound of the cars that were trying to drive under that unexpected temporary. The now muffled music coming out of that exclusive venue. That repetitive and strident sound. You grabbed your arms and thought about your options to get home. All your skin was crawling from the cold and humidity of the water and although you didn't realize it, the humidity there was frizzy that hairstyle that had cost you so much to do that night. The truth was that you knew that a small part of you had only acted like this to impress Aemond, although you would rather die than admit it. You had always found it pathetic that two women competed for the same man. You kept thinking about how to get back home.

You could order a taxi and have it drop you off at the King's Landing bus station. There was a bus that left there at one in the morning. It would take you about 45 minutes to arrive and you could take off that terrible dress and those uncomfortable shoes. You could also call your brother and stay the night at his apartment, but you knew he would end up arguing with his girlfriend like always. So you ruled it out. You could... call your father and ask him to come pick you up. But that would only mean having to explain why you had returned so soon from your supposed best friend's party.

“Hey, how come you're not inside? It's a terrible storm to be outside” you heard Alys' voice behind you and your brain ended up freezing completely. You weren't in the mood to pretend that everything was okay between you, because it hadn't been for three years. Everything was a supposed cordiality and sisterhood that in many cases ended up stressing you out, all because it wouldn't be obvious that you were just jealous. Terribly jealous.

"I'm going home. My head hurts a little” you responded with the best of your fake smiles and you only saw that she was still perfect even despite the humidity of the environment. She was always bloody perfect, with her makeup well applied, her hair perfectly combed, and her dress without a single wrinkle, despite having spent the whole night rubbing against Aemond. Sometimes you thought she even did it on purpose.

“Oh, come on, just wait a couple of hours and Aemond and I will take you home in his car,” she replied, trying to take your hand and go back to the party, but you just let go of her in a bad way, and you realized that such a violent and tiring gesture had managed to destroy the fragile facade of feigned happiness for her that you had managed to build over those hard three years. You weren't going to go home again while Aemond drove and Alys touched up in the passenger seat.

“I don't want to be a bother. Today is your birthday and I imagine you will go do your things after this” you sighed, your cheeks slightly blushing. You could still hear Alys' criticism of the fact that you still hadn't slept with anyone. Alys always patronized you and laughed amusingly as you both continued under the entrance to the club. You are much closer to the rain than she was.

“You mean I'm going to go fuck him after my birthday party?” She smiled at you, amused and arrogant, crossing his arms, knowing that that way of speaking always made you feel uncomfortable. Alys had never been known for being subtle or discreet. It was what you thought men liked about her. “Of course I will, but we can keep bringing you closer to home” she smiled again. She laughed in your face and found the sad face you had made when she had confirmed that she would sleep with Aemond that night even more amusing. You were so innocent that she always thought you had to imagine them playing house when you weren't with them.

“My head really hurts,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks blush. In that moment, you wished you were Alys and received all the attention Aemond gave her day after day. “And I just want to go home…”

“(Y/N), I'm not stupid, okay? I know you like Aemond, but, you have played your cards better” she laughed and you went pale. You saw her smirk as she hit the nail on the head. You had always considered yourself a good actress, but you weren't. You never had been. “This party is full of guys and you just need to get laid. My boyfriend would end up being a mere memory in your head if you did that” she could see how it had been a real stab that she referred to Aemond as her boyfriend and she just laughed, again. “Please, you and Aemond have always been in very different leagues, and you are still a child unable to get over your high school crush,” she laughed and you couldn't take it anymore. It almost seemed like Alys had always found pleasure in humiliating you. “Don't be pathetic. Go back to the party and go to the bathroom with the first one who invites you to a drink” She offered her hand for you to come back in and something inside your head seemed to click at that moment.

“Did you know I liked Aemond in high school?” you asked her and her smile faltered for the first time that night.

“Hey…” Alys started to shake her head. She had always known it. And your heart broke even more. What the hell had Alys been playing since then? “(Y/N), I…”

“It's a yes or a no. It's not that complicated,” you replied, feeling your whole body trembling as if you couldn't stand on your legs. And she bit her lips. She didn't want to answer you. She didn't want to do it because she had always known and never cared. She had only had one very clear goal with Aemond. "Brilliant. You knew it and you still screwed it.”

“You couldn't decide. It was stupid to see you” she blurted that out in your face as if it were a compelling enough reason and you didn't even stay to listen to the rest of the explanation. You just ran out of there, in the rain, your bag swinging on your bare shoulder and hugging yourself. “(Y/N), come back” she yelled at you. But, you were too sad to look back again and you just ran through the rain, almost not knowing where to go.

Alys saw your figure disappear and only turned to return to the club. At the door she met Aemond, who had come out to look for you. He asked her if everything was okay and she just kissed him and took him to the bathroom. That was the perfect way their relationship worked. She was sure he hadn't heard any of your conversation.

You kept walking until you ended up cold and soaked in a part of the city you didn't know. But, you felt too betrayed to be able to feel afraid. You weren't in a good neighborhood and fate was just capricious when you heard something moving in an alley.

At that moment, you realized where you were and you felt afraid. You saw the gazes of some of the passersby fix on you and one even whistled at you as you passed by him. “What is a girl as pretty and alone as you doing in a place like this?” He whispered to you as he grabbed your arm. That man only smelled of alcohol and you felt stupid for having rejected Alys' offer. How did you end up there?

A shadow appeared between the garbage cans in that alley and you never felt so happy to have seen Aegon in your life. He was in a sorry state, with an eyebrow and a split lower lip. He staggered and sighed as he tried to focus his eyes on the spectacle in front of his eyes. You thought he almost looked like he had just been beaten up and he just tried to smile at the sight of you.

That man who had grabbed you stood still, just like you. To that stranger, even in a state as pitiful as that, Aegon Targaryen was someone to be reckoned with. It was a name that could only bring trouble, and, yes, it was perfectly the kind of neighborhood where you'd imagine Aegon on a Saturday night.

“Hey, (Y/N), is this asshole bothering you?” he responded, clutching his ribs, sighing heavily and ending with a smile just as he finished exhaling. That guy looked you up and down, weighing whether the risk of facing Aegon was worth it, even if he was in that state so unbecoming of his family's name, as Aemond always said.

The same guy who had assaulted you let you go and left without saying anything else. Aegon leaned against the brick wall at the corner of the alley and smiled at you again. He made a pitiful sound again and you approached as if you had become active again, after the terror that had taken hold of you. "Are you OK?" you asked him, eyes full of concern and Aegon thought about how he liked your eyes when they looked at him like that. You were a good enough person to care about him. He thought you were even too good a person to be his brother's best friend. You always gave everything you had.

“I've had better nights. Also worse” he answered you while he continued clutching his ribs and took out the keys to his car that was parked at the door of that seedy dive. You didn't even want to ask him what activities were carried out there. You approached with concern and he tried to smile again. Aegon had always treated you cordially, even sympathetically, despite the relationship you had with Aemond. “Well, can I get you somewhere?” Because it's hard for me to leave you in a neighborhood like this alone,” he said with difficulty, banging the keys on the hood of the last Ferrari his parents had bought him. You knew how bad that had felt for Aemond. However, they paid for his very expensive and exclusive doctorate while his brother seemed to indulge that sinful life that only brought him problems.

“I think you should go to the hospital and have that bruise looked at,” you told him as you opened the passenger door. You knew Aemond was going to kill him when he found out whatever had happened to him, and you felt obligated to escort him, as if you had taken the same responsibility on your own of your best friend. You got into the car and Aegon smiled again at the same time he too opened his door.

“I'll go to the hospital right after I drop you off at your house or wherever you want,” he said, starting the car, without putting on his seat belt. At that moment he realized that you were soaked and that you had cried. He had made enough women cry to know the expression that was painted on your face. “Uhm, are you okay? Because you look terrible” he asked you with genuine concern and the greatest tact he had. Aegon had never been known for having good tact.

“Are you really asking me how I am doing when you have a possible broken rib?” you asked him, framing your eyebrows in a worried gesture and he just laughed.

"Believe me. I've had my ribs broken and they hurt more,” he answered honestly and you looked at your phone at that moment. Aemond had sent you a message. Alys none. And you didn't want to see what your best friend had written to you. You didn't think you were capable. You would end up crying. “I thought today was Alys's birthday,” Aegon murmured as he tapped the steering wheel as he began to drive through the city. You didn't even want to wonder if he was up to it, but you just sighed.

“Yes, it is,” you said, putting the phone back in your bag and Aegon just bit his inner cheek. Okay, it was better not to ask you about that topic. He knew enough about women to know that: one, that you had cried, and two, that you must have argued with Alys. The reasons for the discussion could be quite broad. To Aegon, Alys had always seemed as much of a cretin as his cretin of a brother. But Aemond was his little brother and he had no choice but to put up with him. He couldn't stand Alys and it showed. But, he was always the life of the party. He considered his brother's girlfriend so stupid that he thought that not even she must know. You had a sad face, but that was the face you had since Alys and Aemond had started dating. His brother had made a terrible mistake by not choosing you. A mistake Aegon was not willing to make. Maybe, he could sleep with you and see if things worked out…no, no. You were too good a girl for that.

“So… Shall I take you back to the party?” He asked and called himself stupid. You had to come from there, wrapped in tears and looking terrible. A sigh escaped your lips and you just rested your head against the car seat. Your eyes squeezed shut and a tear escaped them.

“No, leave it,” you quickly wiped away that tear with the back of your hand and Aegon felt violent. He had seen you cry before, but it had always been when you were younger, in Aemond's room and, of course, his brother had always been there for you. The eldest Targaryen only knew you in a much less intimate context. He found you quite nice considering the people Aemond usually chose as friends and Aegon had to confess that he had looked at your ass on more than one occasion at one of the parties they had at his house when his parents were away. He did like you somewhat, but he had imagined you as his sister-in-law until Alys appeared in Aemond's life. “Could you drop me off at the bus station?”

“Yes, of course,” Aegon drove in silence. So, yes, you had argued with Aemond's girlfriend. He didn't see you capable of crying about it, or about the situation. Your tears must have had another explanation. Aegon looked at the clock. It was quite late and you probably wanted to take the last bus that would take you to that small city so close to King's Landing. But, you weren't going to have time and that boy thought about whether it was advisable to leave you with such a short dress, such disastrous looks and such uncomfortable shoes in such a lonely season so late. He couldn't think of anything better than the stupid thing he said next. “Um… you could come to my apartment. Uhmmm, I would need someone to cure my lip and eyebrow…” he scratched the back of his neck while his other hand was still on the steering wheel. He thought it was better to keep you in his house with such a stupid ruse than to endure the scolding Aemond would give him if anything happened to you. Besides, a small part of Aegon, very small, actually worried that something might happen to you. He looked at you out of the corner of his eye and only saw you completely blushing. He would have killed to know what you were thinking, but your only mind was that it was the same apartment you had stayed the night in many other times, before Alys started dating Aemond. The couch had always seemed comfortable to you, although Aemond had always left you his bed and he had gone to sleep on the couch. How many nights had you slept there thinking that Aemond would show up in the middle of the night? But, he had never done it and you had never approached the sofa either. You were both too shy or stupid to do it. “Okay, it was stupid and…” Aegon started rambling and you just looked at his wounds. Maybe you could help him.

"OK. Alright. Let's go to the apartment” you replied as you relaxed in the passenger seat and brushed your arms again, freezing to death. Maybe it was better than spending the night waiting for the next bus. You would leave in the morning. You were sure that Aemond and Alys had booked a hotel room for that night. You wouldn't see them. Nothing would happen. You preferred to spend the night under the same roof as Aegon than alone and soaked at the station.

The next thing you remembered was Aegon shirtless. Sitting on the toilet bowl, drinking a bottle of Vodka. The same concoction you were using to rub on the wound on your eyebrow. It was quite deep and did not seem to slow down in its efforts to bleed scandalously. You weren't good at that. You've never had to heal a wound like that on anyone. You and Aemond had always been calm and smart enough to stay out of trouble, even when you were in high school.

Aegon let out another pitiful whimper as the cotton touched the wound again. You only came closer, but Aegon couldn't help but think that you smelled too good. He had your breasts at eye level and found them fascinating. He just took another sip from the bottle while he kept looking at them. You continued in silence, too focused to pay him any attention. Aemond had been an asshole for not telling you when it was obvious that he had had a crush on you all through high school. The eldest Targaryen moved again as the cotton touched the wound again and you just grabbed his chin.

“Please, if you don't stay still I'm not going to move forward with this” you whispered to him while you kept looking at the wound. He liked your worried eyes, your eyes fixed on him, even if it was to heal a simple wound. “I don't know why they did this to you, but it doesn't look good,” you murmured as you dipped a new cotton ball into the bottle that had finally been freed from his hands and he just chuckled.

“Well, at least they didn't kill me. If they had killed me, I wouldn't be able to pay them back the money I owe them” Aegon joked and you just narrowed your eyes while shaking your head. Not a single smile had appeared on your lips and that was almost a way to make Aegon vulnerable, or maybe it was just a strategy to get you into his bed that night. Aegon wasn't sure what was wrong with you. With you. On that one and first time that you were alone and showed genuine concern for him.

“Don't move,” you whispered, still focused on the wound. It seemed like the bleeding had stopped and keeping an eye on that was better than thinking about how ridiculous you had been at Alys's party. Aegon didn't move and just sighed, relaxing his muscles.

“I know I'm a fucking mess. "I'm sorry," Aegon replied. He bit his cheek and just looked at the ground. He would always be the biggest failure of all his brothers. The stupid. The headless one... the lost one... While you healed him in silence, he reflected on it. Would any of his friends cure him like you were doing? The answer was clear and he couldn't feel more of a failure than ever. Shirtless. Sitting in the bathroom. With a girl who was out of his league. “I guess you think I'm a failure…” he whispered and closed his eye, grimacing painfully before you put that stitches on him, and yet you stopped. He looked at you and saw only pity in your eyes.

It hadn't been an easy night for either of you.

“Why would I think that?” you told him, wrinkling your face, almost in a sneer at the image he must have of you, if he thought that you thought he was a failure.

“Well…” he shrugged his shoulders “I wasn't able to finish my degree, I haven't been able to keep a job for more than three months straight, and I just got beaten up for owing money in a cockfight…” he sighed and finished. smiling, almost in a pathetic way that made your heart ache, as if you had never seen him before as the human being he was, as more than just your best friend's older brother. “I'm never going to have a PhD or a girl who is always in love with me… I will never be as perfect as Aemond…” He looked straight into your eyes and you just looked at him with eyes full of tears. He had struck a chord.

He was right that you would always have a crush on Aemond. You quickly wiped away your tears and approached him again. You placed the stitch and he only pretended to moan in pain to make you laugh. “What a bad nurse you are” he whispered and made you laugh.

“You don't want to be as blind as Aemond,” you said in a whisper and he just laughed.

“Damn, he's one-eyed, what a way to say that…” he laughed, getting up from the toilet and you narrowed your eyes, separating yourself from him, ready to wash your hands in the sink. He looked at you smiling at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and you looked back at him with a half smile.

“You know that's not what I mean,” you told him and he just laughed again.

“I know, but the joke was there. I just saw the opportunity” he shrugged again and you came closer just to sniff him. He saw your face scrunching up and laughed loudly. “I should take a shower, would you like to come with me?” He asked in a joking, but suggestive tone and you just punched him in the chest, laughing for the first time that night.

“Can you take a shower, please?” you asked him and he just looked you up and down. That pretty, damaged dress. All your hair wet. You were a mess.

“Right now,” he said, leaving the bathroom, running towards his room. You didn't know whether to follow him and you ended up doing so, almost like a mother following a small child. Now you knew how Aemond felt every time he told you each of his older brother's crazy things. However, you arrived at his room to only see him with a tender smile and grabbing one of his old t-shirts. “You're soaked… and… you're going to end up catching a cold…” He offered you the shirt and that tender gesture broke your heart. Before, Aemond had always had those tender gestures with you, now... three years later... and with Alys... none of that existed.

You blushed and pushed him into the shower, laughing. How long had it been since you laughed like that?

“We're not going to watch a documentary about Ancient Valyria,” he screamed at you, while flipping through the many pay channels he had. You laughed and knelt on the couch, trying to get the controller away from him. You missed having that complicity with someone, and you wondered how you could have reached that intimate point with Aegon, wearing one of his shirts, sitting with him in the living room of his apartment... it almost seemed like you were back with Aemond and then, he came back to stretch your arm, separating the TV remote from your possible grip. You tried to grab him again, falling on top of him and Aegon just put his hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face to his and... he simply kissed you, closing his eyes, while your eyes remained wide open. His lips landed on yours and he moved them energetically, feeling a kind of strange connection with you. You didn't close your eyes even once. You didn't believe what was happening, much less did you know how to react to that kiss that didn't upset you, but it didn't excite you either. How many times have you imagined Aemond kissing you on that couch while you were watching one of the documentaries he liked so much? Aegon finished and opened his eyes to only be met with your wide eyes and flushed cheeks. You looked down and he just laughed, feeling like a loser again… “Has it been that bad?” He asked, running his hand through his hair, almost as if he'd screwed up…because, that's how he always felt. That damn feeling of always screwing up.

However, you kissed him again. It was a childish and vindictive feeling, stupid and immature. You only remembered Alys's words. Maybe the problem was the same thing that Alys had told you at the entrance to that exclusive club, maybe... you just needed to get laid by the first person who had invited you to a drink, and Aegon had done much more than that.

He accepted all your kisses, feeling like a winner. He had surpassed Aemond for the first time in his life. He had the girl of his dreams and he planned to rub it in his face how good a match he was for you... Besides, you didn't see him as a loser, and that made his heart beat harder. Your kisses were proof of this.

You ended up sleeping with Aegon, without much more than a few kisses, in the same bed in his apartment, without him letting go of you all night. Hugging you and you felt a special connection with him... As if all the attention and care he needed fell on you... and, unbeknownst to you, Aegon began to think that you were his girlfriend that very night... you ended up cuddled up, with him hugging you. body, and you slept... Aegon was just a patch to alleviate your loneliness, but wasn't that what love was about?

“But… What are you doing here?” Alys closed the refrigerator door roughly and you woke up from the sleepy trance you were in. You had only gone for a glass of water to continue sleeping.

Your best friend crossed her arms. The nightgown that left little to the imagination contrasted with the old t-shirt Aegon had left you to sleep in. You were both in your underwear, although in a very different way. She looked you up and down, as if you were a real scumbag and you only spoke with the shyness that characterized you, with the fear that you had always really had of Alys, it wasn't about respect. It was about fear. She had always been better than you and had constantly reminded you of that. “I was coming for water,” you whispered. You looked at her as if she were an alien, as if you didn't want to have anything to do with her since the argument the night before, because you didn't want to see her again. Never more.

“Well, I imagine that's what you were coming for…” he told you, looking at you again, as if he were scanning you. “That shirt is Aegon's…” he whispered, grabbing one of the sleeves as if it would give him a rash and you blushed, breaking free of his grip.

“Why don't you go fuck Aemond? It's the only thing you know how to do” you whispered to her, angry, like you had never been before and she smiled contemptuously, as if everything was beginning to unfold in her head. You were angry and hurt, much more hurt than angry.

“Don't fuck with me, (Y/N). Are you fucking Aegon?” She smiled, with that smile so beautiful and evil at the same time. “Are you so pathetic that since you can't sleep with Aemond you end up fucking his loser brother? Oh really?" she smiled again.

“Leave me alone, bitch,” you said. The voice was icy and she paled. She would never have believed you capable of calling him that. “If you had been my friend, you wouldn't have fucked him,” you told her. A tear running down your face. “Because you knew I was in love with him… because you fucking knew it…” you whispered under your breath. You felt another tear running down your face. And it wasn't just because Aemond had chosen her, it was because she had always known... she had been your best friend... until that night...

“You will always be a pathetic, losing creature. “Did you want Aemond to end up with a loser like you?” She asked you and at that moment, you froze.

Aemond appeared there, without his sweater, without his eyepatch, and looked at you both as if that had been the revelation of his life... always so blind... he had heard everything and opened his mouth to say something, but you just walked out of the room. You headed towards Aegon's room and closed the door behind you. You had already made a decision.

Alys watched as her boyfriend nervously ran his hand through his hair. “Aemond…” she whispered, approaching him, trying to get him to take her into his arms again, but Aemond only pushed her away, closing his sole tightly. How could he have been so blind? Alys… Alys had always told him that you weren't interested and he… had believed her, because it was the easy way… to believe her… “Let's go to bed” she whispered, hugging him from behind, kissing his back while he tried to process everything, in complete silence. “She's always going to be a pathetic, losing creature…” she began whispering and Aemond couldn't take it anymore. It had been like this for too long.

“Go away,” he said in a firm voice and Alys stopped kissing his back. She pulled away and Aemond just turned away, not meeting her eyes. He repeated the same command “Go away.”

“But…” Alys started to speak, but Aemond just grabbed her arm and looked her straight in the eyes. His eyes seemed to have forgotten all the desire and adoration he had had for her during those three years.

“Go away,” he whispered again. At that moment he hated her, but above all he hated himself for having always been so blind. Alys left, and it took him two years away from you to clarify what he felt... He had always been selfish...

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #modern aegon x reader #modern aegon targaryen #modern aegon ii

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wheres-mylove · 9 months

Text

as if!

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Tyrell!Reader

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Part 1: Heart of Stone

Summary: It's just another day of dealing with unpleasant professors, unwanted admirers, and now Aemond Targaryen on top of it. Miss Tyrell welcomes a new housemate. He's quite charming. In his own way. Disclaimer: English isn't my first language! Word count: 3.3k

The skirt's hem swirled around her legs as she spun in front of the grand gilded mirror.

“Just to be sure, how do I look in green?” asked (Y/N), squinting and carefully analyzing her reflection. “Because if not stunning, I’m afraid I can’t leave the house.”

Mr. Tyrell didn't take his gaze off the stack of papers on the table, only murmured approvingly. His daughter placed her hands on her hips. These damned lawyers and their workaholism.

“There wasn't supposed to be any reading of lawsuits at breakfast! You're not even listening to me.”

“You're a rose, dearest. Green and red are your colors,” the man replied, finally looking up and sending her a self-satisfied smile.

(Y/N) shook her head and checked her phone notifications, deftly avoiding unread messages from Arryk Cargyll.

Gods, men and their inability to read the signals.

“What are your plans for the afternoon?” Mr. Tyrell asked suddenly, tapping the table with his pen.

“Coffee date with Baela. Looking pretty and discussing existential problems,” she said, lost in thought about whether to block the pest.

“You have to stay here after you’re finished with your classes. I'm heading to the court, and we'll have a guest,” her father informed, finally earning a bit of her attention.

“You invited that hot prosecutor chick to our place?” she asked with great enthusiasm, receiving a disapproving look in return. “What? You two would make a good - looking couple.”

“I will just pretend that I didn't hear that. Do you remember Alicent Hightower? Married to Baela’s uncle. The divorce case from around four years ago. Custody battles, side family feuds, property disputes? A very… emotional woman.”

“Alicent, Alicent…. Wait, that beautiful lady who cried so much?” she inquired. Mr. Tyrell nodded. “Ah, I’ve heard that story, she had every right to act the way she did! Stop calling women emotional. So, you're after divorced ones now? Aside from being friends with Bae, I also know Aegon, that's a bit awkward, dad.”

Her father sighed and waved his hand, losing his patience.

“Well, now you'll meet Aemond. I offered him some sort of a collaboration. I have tons of work, I can't keep up. No help from anywhere. An inheritance scorned.” He gave her a meaningful look.

“Lawyers are super boooring. I don't meddle in such shady business.”

“The young man just graduated from Oldtown University and he's really promising. I need someone to handle the responsibility. I also feel a bit obligated to Alicent, she's an old friend of mine, and the trial was, how to phrase it, rather nasty,” Mr. Tyrell continued. “He'll stay with us here for a while. That will make him more available whenever there’s a new task.”

“What now, excuse me? In our house?” She dramatically spread her arms, gesturing to everything around. “How sweet that you're asking for my opinion.”

“Oh, come on, dearest, this house is so big that you could get lost in it. We barely bump into each other. You won't notice he's here. Besides, don't pretend you spend so much time indoors. King's Landing pulls you outside.”

“Who would have thought that you’ll end up as a philanthropist,” she muttered, crossing her arms and plopping down onto a chair with a pout. “Men are nothing but trouble. The vibes won't be the same anymore.”

“If Aemond becomes any trouble for you, you have a lawyer for a father, keep that in mind. Just threaten him.”

“Dad, he's also somewhat capable in that field. Didn’t you call him promising?”

“Yes, but which one of us is a big fish?” Mr Tyrell stood up and patted her shoulder. “Be nice, as nice as you can. Oh, and he'll take a cab from the airport. I'd risk a personal injury case if you were to pick him up.”

Baela got out of the car, clutching her heart with one hand and gripping the door handle tightly with the other.

“This is the last time you gave me a ride!” she exclaimed, to which (Y/N) burst out laughing.

“You're exaggerating, Bae.” She tossed the keys in the air and caught them with the same hand. “There's no better driver in Westeros than me.”

“You're the best at speeding and ignoring road signs, I'll give you that,” her friend said, fixing the mess of curls that the rush of air had created. (Y/N) lightly hit her butt with the textbook she had in her hand. Baela sucked in air indignantly.

She couldn't retaliate because her phone played 7/11 by Beyoncé, signaling an incoming call.

“Jace,” Baela announced softly and picked up the call with a voice that was definitely higher than usual. “Hey, babe, what's up?”

The girl passed her on the stairs, engrossed in a conversation with her boyfriend. (Y/N) rolled her eyes. Bae stopped in the uni hall, still on the phone, gesturing that she'd catch up in a moment. There was nothing left to do but sigh in irritation and head to the classroom. This part of the campus was still mostly empty, but it didn't take long until she heard fast footsteps behind her.

“Hey, Miss Tyrell!”

Oh gods, no, not this, please.

Arryk caught up with her and put his arm around her shoulder. (Y/N) forced a fake half-smile and smoothly slipped out of his grip. If he was disappointed by that, he didn't show it. After all, she didn't owe him anything.

As if. Who does he think he is?

“Hey,” she replied dryly, hoping to deter any silly ideas he might have in his head. “I’m waiting for Baela.”

“I'll wait with you then,” he suggested with a hopeful tone. (Y/N) grimaced, desperately looking for someone she could use as an excuse to escape this conversation. “I messaged you yesterday. You probably didn't notice, that’s alright.”

“No, I just didn't have time to reply,” she clarified, finally spotting someone on the horizon who rarely attended that class, so his presence now was almost a miracle. "I have something to discuss with Targaryen. Bye.”

She left Arryk in the middle of the hallway, greeted a few people she recognized from the course, and stood in front of Aegon, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

“A bit hungover?” she asked sweetly, trying not to laugh at the guy who struggled to open his eyes just to look at her.

“Good morning to you too, princess,” he mumbled, rubbing his temples in pain. “If I didn't have to, I wouldn't come here.”

Aegon Targaryen wasn't an exemplary student. He got kicked out of Oldtown University because his academic progress was non-existent. Now he was back in King's Landing. He could've changed his environment, but his love for parties, alcohol and weed remained.

She offered him a bottle of water. Aegon eyed it suspiciously.

“What can you tell me about your brother, Aemond?”

“I knew it wasn't out of kindness,” he grumbled, taking the water. “Don't you have other drinks?"

“He'll be working with my dad,” she explained, ignoring the silly question. “And he'll probably be staying with us. Is he nice?”

Aegon nearly choked on the water he was so eagerly sipping on.

“Oh, honey. My condolences. Take it as an invitation to my dorm in case the Ice Queen won’t let you live. I haven't seen him since I got kicked out, and I can't say I particularly miss him.”

“Elaborate on that,” she demanded, already seeing Baela heading their way. She had impeccable timing, as Professor Borris Baratheon was trailing right behind her.

“If he wasn't my brother, I'd say he's a pretentious dick. But he's my brother, so I won't say that. You’ll let me know how things are when he arrives, yeah?”

“Sure. Thanks, Targaryen.” She shook her head with mild disgust as he tried to hand her back the half-empty bottle. “Keep it.”

“And about that invitation to the dorm…”

“Forget about it.”

(Y/N) Tyrell and Baela Targaryen shared identical expressions as they received their graded assignments. Disappointment mixed with anger. Professor Baratheon continued handing out the papers, unaware of two death glares directed at his back.

“We spent two days in the library writing these pathetic pieces of shit,” Baela grumbled, flipping the stack of papers so she wouldn't have to look at the grade.

“Maybe he can't fucking read,” (Y/N) commented with a frown. She looked around the room and noticed Aegon on the other end, banging his head against the back of Jason Lannister's chair. The latter turned towards her, and raised his hand slightly in a greeting gesture. She reciprocated with a smile and put her paper up as a silent question. He gave her a thumbs-down with a comical grimace. “Looks like everyone did spectacular.”

“Baratheon’s just a bitter old man,” Baela summed up.

“I'm going to argue with him.”

“(Y/N)...” Bae began with a sigh, but her friend already had her hand raised high and was clearing her throat.

Professor Baratheon turned towards her with an expression that indicated he'd rather be anywhere else but here.

“Yes, Miss Tyrell?” he asked wearily.

“What about the extra points for the discussion on intersectionality in Westerosi culture? I don't see that you took it into account, professor,” she said, tapping her nails on the desk.

“If I remember correctly, your statement consisted of praising the influences of Dorne, and I quote, because they have excellent wine, and negating those from the Riverlands, as you don't like the people there.”

“There's something about them that makes them unlikeable, don't you think, professor?”

Baela was still laughing when they both walked out of the glass-walled building together.

“It's not funny, Bae. He has some issues; lately, he's been grading us more severely.” She stopped mid-step, causing her friend to almost bump into her. “Of course. You don't think at all! He has recently divorced his wife. He must be sexually frustrated.”

“He's more likely to get gray hairs from his daughters. Have you seen the state of the place after that party at Cassandra's?”

“We need to find him some pussy. I'm serious. Set him up with someone, and he'll calm the fuck down. I'll analyze the faculty members and choose someone who's perfect for him,” (Y/N) nodded, as if confirming her brilliant idea.

“You're joking.”

“I'm not.”

Baela dropped onto a nearby bench with a groan and gave (Y/N) a skeptical look.

“You can't play matchmaker for the professors!”

“Who's going to stop me?”

“It's going to come back to bite you someday, honey. Less meddling in other people's lives, more interest in your own. Am I seeing things, or is Jason Lannister staring at you more than usual?”

“Don't change the subject; I don't give a damn about Lannister,” (Y/N) snorted, absentmindedly playing with the strap of her pink designer bag. “I wish all men would just leave me alone.”

“Having a boyfriend isn't the worst curse you can bring upon yourself, you know?”

(Y/N) grumbled and sat down next to her friend, resting her head on Baela's shoulder.

“I don't like the fact that you're content with Velaryon, because you deserve better,” she stated after a while, to which Bae chuckled.

“Because you didn't pick him for me? I apologize profusely for not utilizing the services of a matrimonial agency.”

“Oh, come on, hot stuff. You're extraordinary, and you need an extraordinary man.”

“They probably don't make those anymore.”

(Y/N) made a saddened face and snuggled into her friend's jacket.

“It's bordering on controlling behavior how often he calls you. You should dump him,” she mumbled, to which Baela let out a belly laugh.

They both knew that (Y/N) didn't truly hate Jace Velaryon, but it was hard for her to accept the idea that someone so close to her heart might not be getting what she deemed the best.

“I saw you talking to Aegon. I thought we were keeping a strategic distance from my cousin,” Bae began.

“Aemond Targaryen is getting friendly with my dad and is coming to stay at our place.”

“Wait, what?” Baela exclaimed, looking at her with surprise. “And you're telling me about this now?”

“Please, don’t make it worse. That dumbass have already told me to watch out, I'm starting to fear this fucking encounter.”

“Aemond isn't so bad, but he's… Well, one of a kind.” The girl scratched her neck awkwardly, pulled her phone out of her pocket, and began scrolling down the photo gallery. “I think it's best to leave him alone, not get in his way. Oh, and not force him to be a member of society.”

She brought a family pic under (Y/N)'s nose and zoomed in on a tall guy with platinum hair, definitely longer than Aegon's, and a stern expression on his face. One of his eyes glowed with an unnatural sapphire light.

If he's as unbearable as he is handsome, we're going to have a problem.

The sofa in the living room was designed to offer a perfect view of the driveway. (Y/N) took her position at the observation point. Her legs spread out on the armrest, gaze fixed on the window, Baela on the video call.

“Lower the volume on Cher, I can barely hear you,” Bae demanded from the other end of the line.

“How can you say such blasphemy?” (Y/N) scolded her, but obediently reached for the speaker, all while singing out of tune at the top of her lungs. “Emotional fireee, every time I see you, I’m on fire!”

“Gods, I thought you'd have a bigger problem, but honestly, bitch, Aemond might not be able to handle it mentally either. You two might actually kill each other.”

“It won't be that bad, I know how to behave,” the girl retorted. “Plus, he won't stay here forever. Probably just until my dad gets through most urgent cases. Later we will let that man find his own place. His family is rich, Alicent got a shitload of money after the divorce.”

“As she should! But seriously, I believe in you. Do you want me to write you a Get well card for tomorrow?”

(Y/N) Tyrell then noticed a car parking in front of the house. It didn't belong to her father, so it had to be Targaryen arriving.

“Target identified, now approaching. I'll message you later!”

“Good luck, bestie!”

They hung up. She wasn't sure whether to wait for him to ring the doorbell or to go outside. While she pondered, Aemond paid the driver and pulled a large black suitcase from the trunk.

Apparently, someone was ready for an extended stay. And had an aversion to colors of the rainbow.

She wondered how someone could look so good after hours of airplane travel. He was dressed in a black tracksuit, Adidas shoes, hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. Life was truly unfair. She shook her head and smoothed out the creases in her green spaghetti strap dress, which cost more than she had told her father. Good thing she didn't change. At least she had the upper hand in terms of clothing.

She opened the door just as the car was driving away, and Aemond was about to ring the doorbell. He raised an eyebrow and scrutinized her with an assessing gaze.

Oh my. He had that down even better than her.

“You're not Mr. Tyrell,” he almost accused. Maybe he was hoping to avoid any interaction beyond what was necessary.

“You're very observant,” she replied before she could bite her tongue. Targaryen raised his chin slightly. Stop, dad told her to be nice. Be nice. “Hi. (Y/N) Tyrell. I'm the daughter.”

“Hmm,” Aemond grunted, still not tearing his gaze away. Baela's photo didn't fully capture his sharp, almost noble features. One eye was prosthetic, a deep sapphire hue.

She realized they had been standing in the doorway for quite some time, locked in a silent staring contest. She stepped back to let him inside.

“Please come in,” she said, forcing a polite tone. He entered the house slowly, one hand holding the suitcase. Bypassed her in the doorway, still maintaining eye contact.

Weird guy. She closed the door behind them and cleared her throat.

“Aemond, right?” she asked after a moment, feeling uneasy about him being so quiet.

“Yes,” he replied in a flat voice, raising his brows as if she had asked him a very dumb question.

Okay, that was nonsensical, but she had to do something about this awkward silence.

“How was your journey?”

“Fine.”

“Dad mentioned that you'll be working together. He speaks very highly of you,” she began, stepping closer and mustering a friendly smile.

“He didn't mention you at all.”

Oh. How courteous. Wonderful!

(Y/N) folded her hands behind her back and nodded, deciding to tap into her previously prepared formula to get this over with.

“You'll be sleeping in one of the guest rooms, upstairs and the first door on the left. There's a bathroom and a walk-in closet inside. My room is in the right wing, also the first door, if you need anything. The cleaning lady comes twice a week, but you can let her know if you don't want her to enter. This is the living room. Further in, there's the dining room and the kitchen. You're welcome to use them as you please. Although dad suggests we have dinner together, it's just an offer.”

She finished her speech with a deep inhale. Aemond had been watching her carefully. She felt her hands getting sweaty. Did he ever blink?

He nodded, the only sign that her words had reached him, since he hadn't said a single word yet.

As Aegon called him, what was that? The Ice Queen? It suited him. She thought he would go to his room and free her from his presence, but he continued to stand still.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked uncertainly, not sure what to do with him.

“A glass of tonic, if it's not a problem,” he said, finally tearing his gaze away and sweeping it around the living room.

“No problem at all! You can take the time to bring your luggage upstairs. Unless you need help?”

Aemond first looked at his suitcase, then at her with a sour expression. Maybe his ego would suffer if a girl helped him with something heavy.

“No.”

She took some relief in that. At least she could escape him, even if only for a moment. She deliberately took her time looking for a glass, then wiping it clean, and pouring him some Schweppes that was stocked in the fridge.

Let that asshole wait.

She found him in the living room, casually leaning against the wall and examining her copy of The Lady of the Camellias. She had left it on the small table next to the couch, so he must have picked it up.

She clenched her fingers around the glass, suddenly infuriated that he was going through her stuff.

“Yours?” he asked, and she could swear on every Italian fashion house that she saw a hint of a pleased smirk on his face.

“Yes, I read it at night when I can't fall asleep. That's some serious sleep-inducing boredom,” she retorted in a nearly defensive tone, though she already knew what he had found inside.

“Quite a lot of annotations for someone who finds Dumas boring,” Aemond replied, his tone filled with smugness.

The steam was almost coming out of her ears. He enters her house and pushes his way into the realm she considered private.

Nobody was allowed to read that. Her thoughts, hers only.

She took a few quick steps toward him, snatched the book from his hand, and put a glass in there instead.

“Here.”

He didn't thank her, or maybe she didn't hear it because she walked away in a hurry.

She hoped that Aemond Targaryen would stay away from her belongings. Stay away from her books, her life and the first room in the right wing.

Taglist: @wintrr13

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#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #modern!aemond #modern!aemond x reader

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doxypsychlean · 2 years

Text

Cupid's Chokehold

Aegon ii Targaryen x Reader

|Oneshot|

Warnings: Explicit language, implied nudity ig?? dude's ass was out for everyone to see in that one scene anyway?

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Lol this one's kinda sad...Oh yeah, and no use of Y/N, couldn't get myself to do it.

"Where the fuck were you last night?" She entered their shared quarters, angry tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "For fuck's sake, Aegon!"

"Hm?"

"Where were you!?"

"What?"

She tore the sheets off of him. All he did was roll over and mutter something under his breath.

"Why do I even bother..." She sighed in defeat, crashing down on the corner of the bed. Their bed. At least in principle. In reality, the princess had spent most of their marriage sleeping on one of the lounging chairs they had in their chambers. She couldn't bring herself to get into the same bed as him. Especially when he smelled of wine, vomit, other women and Gods know what else...

"I never wanted this, you know..." She said more to herself, than him. "I would've been more than happier to marry some unknown lord of some unknown pile of shit on the other side of the realm."

There was no stopping now, it all came crashing down. The words kept spilling from her mouth.

"I can still see it. Me and this fanthom lord husband of mine, smiling at eachother, our children running around. A babe growing in my womb. I could've been so happy, Aegon...So,so happy."

Unbeknownst to her, he had heard it all. Red puffy eyes looked back at her, tears creeping their way down his flushed face and landing on the soft pillow under the prince's head. He sat up, hand reaching out for her.

"I never knew... I-" His voice trembling.

"How could have you ever known, you're never here..." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, moving away from his touch. "Sometimes I wonder if you even know my fucking name"

She stood up abruptly and started circling around the room like a caged beast. A pair of crystal blue eyes followed her movements. Aegon could see it all now, clear as day. The pain, the distrust, the resentment.

"I tried loving you... Back when Cupid still had me in his chokehold" the woman let out a bitter laugh. "You fucking idiot, you have no idea what it's like! All I wanted was someone to love me. Someone to fucking love back! If that is love, then I don't know what love is..."

She slammed a hand against the wall, bones shattering. All the adrenaline that rushed through the young body kept her from feeling the severity of what she'd just done to herself.

"Instead I got you- a lifelong sentence. And I have yet to figure out what kind of monstrosity I must have committed to deserve such a punishment."

"Please, I'll-"

"You'll what? Change?" She interrupted. Her voice was barely above a whisper now, clutching her broken hand with the one that was still intact. "Oh, please. You've had all the time in the damn world to do it. You think me yelling at you once is what's gonna do it. Please, Aegon, even I am not that naive."

The prince looked down at her broken hand. He knew it. She was right.

"My dear, sweet Aegon..." The woman grabbed his chin between the thumb and index finger of her good hand, lifting up so he could meet her gaze once again. "You'll spend the rest of your life chasing whores and bottles. You're not good for much else. Remember that."

She bent down and kissed him gently. The first and last kiss they'd shared since the wedding ceremony. His eyes fluttered shut.

"Not long after your pretty silver hair will start to fall out. You'll get weak. Frail. The only children you'll father will be bastards that you'll never meet. And the only person that would have tried to love you for who you were, will be long gone..."

She was at the door by the time his eyes opened back up.

"Farewell, my love."

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the usurper #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd one shot #gameogthronesfanfic #gameofthrones #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #queen alicent #alicent hightower #oneshot #angst

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multific · 1 year

Text

At Last

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

„We are in an arranged marriage and you want to pretend that you care! So what if I flirt with someone?”

„We are married Princess, you have duties-"

„Duties?! Oh really, so what about you then? What happened to your duties when women flirt with you?”

„That’s different.”

„Of course, because you are a man right? You can go around and cheat on me but I shouldn’t even dare look at another man.” you wanted to laugh. How dare he?

"You are a married woman. You are mine. And women don't flirt with me."

"They do, don't pretend as if you are just too oblivious to notice." you huffed as you sat down on your bed.

How dare he act this way?

"They don't flirt with me, women are afraid of me." he siad as he sat on the other side of the bed, his back to you,

"They are not afraid, if anything they want your titles and dick more than anything. Why would you think they are not flirting?"

"My missing eye scares them, I know it."

Oh, so that was this is about, his never ending doubt and insecurity regarding his eye.

"Don't be ridiculous. They see your handsome face first.” you said with a very calm voice. “I know I did."

"You did?" Aemond almost turned to look at you, but he didn't, he kept looking at the fireplace as the fire crackled. But his attention was on you.

"Of course. I remember the day we met, it was really hot, I remember mentioning it to my mother how you can be wearing dark leather and be fine. But then I saw you, you look like a real King, powerful as you stood there. I didn't even notice your eyepatch or scar. I couldn't care less, your tall frame and the way you held yourself hid all that from me."

"Are you lying?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"I have no reason to. It pains me that you don't see yourself like I see you."

"Is that why you flirt with men?"

"I only flirted with one, only because that lady seemed very attracted to you. I wanted to make you jealous. And it somewhat worked." This time when Aemond turned to look at you, you were already watching him. "I do find myself very attracted to you, Aemond. But you are right, we are in an arranged marriage, and no matter how much I wish for it to be real, It isn't." you looked down at your hands as you let out a sigh.

"It could be. It could be real. Your mother married you to me because of my name, I know that but I also know that you do not care about my name or status. I see it in you Y/N, you care about me, but my insecurities pushed you away, keep pushing you away."

"We could start anew Aemond. We can, I believe in us. And if your feelings for me are half as strong as mine towards you, it will work."

"My feelings for you, My Love, are greater than any power on this Earth."

"Than it will work. I believe our marriage can be real and we don't have to live is misery."

You smiled as you moved onto the bed, closer to him as you grabbed his face and placed a kiss on his lips.

"I would like that, very much, My Queen." this made you laugh a little.

"I love you, Aemond." you said as you looked into his eye, letting him know you mean every word.

"And I love you as well, Y/N." this time, it was he who leaned over to place a kiss to your lips.

Arranged marriage or not, Targaryen or not, you loved this man with all of your heart.

And he, loved you just as much if not more.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter @stunkbiggu

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x pregnant reader #Female reader #arranged marriage #House of the dragon #House of the dragon imagine #House of the dragon imagines #House of the dragon story #House of the dragon x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones au #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #ewan mitchell character

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officialaemondtargaryen · 9 days

Text

Fall In Love With A Girl

❝she'll make you feel like the world is on your shoulder.❞

Summary: What can go wrong, will go wrong. That is until you meet the most beautiful woman you've ever seen and her brother's puppy.

Pairing: Modern Helaena Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Author’s Note: This is a re-write of an old fic of mine. I'm in my re-writing era and this is Megan's Version. I felt like this would be the perfect time to remind everyone that I love women.

Warnings: language, fluff, women loving women (if you are against this unfollow me?)

There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.

Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always; you’ll never get used to those abuse cases or having to hold someone’s hand as they say goodbye to their beloved pet. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because both dogs and cats shed a lot! Especially Bella the Saint Bernard who was due for her yearly check up today. Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because it’s more likely than not that you’ll end up getting peed on by someone’s over-excited pup.

Even though you knew these rules by heart and you followed them every single day of your work life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell, Hankie, peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara. So, when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing hoping to find some cat food.

Today just wasn’t your day.

It was fifteen minutes until closing time, and you could feel the excitement and exhaustion in your bones. You were desperate for rest, to go home and take a shower, crawl in bed and watch terribly written romantic comedies on Netflix until you passed out. If only you could snap your fingers and make those last few minutes fly by, but that was impossible and unfortunately manipulating time wasn’t a superpower you had acquired yet, so instead you swept and mopped the floors for the sixth time that day.

And that was when you heard it.

The tiny bell over the door chimed, signaling that a customer had just walked in and you could hear the pitter-patter of doggie feet on the linoleum floors. As far as you knew, there weren’t any more customers scheduled for the day; the last appointment was over thirty minutes ago and they were a no-show. From your spot in the back hallway, you could hear your coworker, talking to the patient and before you knew it, she was charging through the back door. You took one look at her, knowing what her question would be before she even opened her mouth. That shit-eating-grin was always plastered on her face when she wanted something.

“No,” you said as you swept the dirt into the dustpan.

“Come on, bestie,” she whined. “I really need to get out of here on time tonight! It’s just a simple check-up and she seems really nice! Please will you take them?”

Not wanting to argue or cause an issue, you sighed, exhaling every ounce of oxygen in your lungs before finally giving in. She was practically beaming with excitement as your shoulders slumped, eyes rolling back as you sat the broom down.

“Oh, my God! Thank you so much! I owe you, big time,” she went to hug you but you stepped to the side, avoiding her embrace at all costs.

You simply nod at your coworker as you try to dust some of the cat hairs from your scrubs. It was no use, and you knew that, but still, you at least tried to look more professional. After the day you’ve had, you should have known that clocking out on time was just too good to be true, but you still put a smile on your face as you walked up to the front desk. One day you’d cash in on all of the times she owed you for, but today wasn’t that day. Everything that could have gone wrong today had already gone wrong, and at this point you were only giving in to her for the plot. What else could possibly happen?

When you got to the front desk, you looked over the counter to see the customer on one knee as she played with the tiny puppy; rubbing its belly and tickling its sides.

“How can I help you?” You asked with that fake customer service voice.

The young woman turned around and looked up at you, flashing one of the most brilliant smiles you had ever seen, and you could have sworn that a chorus of angels were singing in the background– or maybe it was just the classical music on the radio that your boss liked to play, who knows? She was absolutely stunning though, with her pale blonde hair and striking lavender eyes.

“Hey, uh- I had an appointment for this little guy,” she replied with a soft smile as she moved to stand.

“Okay,” you nodded, trying to remember to breathe. You could smell her perfume as she took a step up to the counter. “What’s this little guy’s name?”

“His name is Sunfyre.”

“Oh,” you realized that this was that no-show appointment that should have been here thirty minutes ago. It was then that you looked right past her good looks and lilac scented perfume and let the irritation settle back in. “You’re Mr. Targaryen? You had an appointment with us at 5:00.”

The woman rubbed a hand on the back of her neck and gave you a sheepish smile.

“Not Mr. Targaryen, that’s my brother. I’m Helaena,” then she lets out a sigh. “He’s out of town and forgot to mention that I needed to be here until ten minutes before I was supposed to be here and then there was traffic, and I’m really sorry that I’m late. I hope I can still get him in, I mean, if that’s okay. If it’s too late then I’ll just make another appointment, I guess”

Your eyes widened as she rambled on and then you smiled at her. If it were anyone else, you probably would have told them to make another appointment and kick rocks. But this girl was just so gorgeous and her smile was just so beautiful, and your hopes of getting home on time were already sacked, so you led her back to the exam room and told her that it was no problem.

“Hopefully this doesn’t take too long,” she mentioned as she picked Sunfyre up and sat him on the table.

Wait, was she actually rushing you?

“I’ve got this stupid thing I’m supposed to go to tonight,” she continued as you checked the puppy’s weight.

She really was rushing you.

“It’s a blind date that Aegon, uh-”

Before she could say ‘Mr. Targaryen’, you nodded your head to let her know that you understood who she was talking about.

“Yeah,” Helaena kept on, not really caring that you weren’t really listening. “He set it up and I’m just nervous. I’ve never really been on a date- well, I’ve been on dates, but never a blind one. With the way this day has been going, he’ll probably end up being an alien with six eyes.”

“I know how you feel,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Oh, I just agreed with you,” you replied, not really wanting to go into details about your day with a girl who was about to go on a blind date and probably fall in love with someone that wasn’t the vet tech with a piss stain on her leg. Besides, her blind date was with a man which meant your chances were pretty much shot. “About the way this day has been going.”

“You’ve had a bad day, too?”

“I’m going to let Dr. Strong know you’re ready and we’ll try to get you out of here as soon as possible,” you say, ignoring her question.

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” she replied as you shuffled out of the exam room.

Your boss looked up at you from his desk and raised his eyebrows underneath his glasses. You said nothing and only dropped the puppy’s chart on his desk with a thud, before turning back around and heading into the back hallway. You could hear that Helaena girl sweet talking the pup from behind the door and your expression softened for a moment. But that was only until you glanced at the clock and saw that it was well past closing time, and you should’ve been walking through your front door right now; maneuvering out of your bra and kicking off your non-slip, worn out tennis shoes. Your frown came right back as you looked over the front desk, making sure everything was in order before your boss eventually called you in for an extra hand.

You sighed as you saw that your coworker had bailed on stamping the outgoing bill statements, a job which was tedious and tiring, and usually ended in cramped hands and sticky fingertips. With a soft groan, you sat down, flexing your toes in your shoes and tried to quickly stamp as many envelopes as you could.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dr. Strong called from somewhere within the office. “Can you lend me a hand for a moment?”

You stood up and tossed the envelopes in the mailing bin before heading towards the back hallway.

“What’s up, doc?” You asked with a forced grin as you tried to lighten the mood. Your boss, Harwin, had been under constant stress ever since his partner veterinarian, Dr. Tully, quit the practice to focus on his family.

“Can you draw me up 1cc of Nobivac?” He asked as he scribbled something down in the chart in front of him. “And I’m going to need you in the room when I administer it, there’s a note in the little guy’s chart that says he’s not very good with shots.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied as you pulled the keys to the medical cabinet out of the front pocket of your scrubs.

Helaena smiled at you when you entered the exam room once again. The puppy in her hands jumped in your direction, tail wagging from side to side as he whined for attention. “I think he likes you,” the girl commented as she tried to hold the puppy back.

“That’s nice,” you replied with a soft smile, not really wanting to make small talk with Ms. I-Have-A-Blind-Date-Can-You-Hurry-Up. “But he’s probably not going to like me very much after getting poked.”

“Probably not,” Helaena laughed. You couldn’t help but feel a little light-headed at the sight of her smile, despite your tough facade. The sound of her laugh was just as attractive, if not more so. “But who knows, maybe he’ll forgive you.”

Dr. Strong stepped into the room, cutting your conversation short to begin his own spiel; informing Sunfyre’s short term owner of the possible side effects of the rabies vaccine, and also why it is important to have one. Information that, hopefully, Helaena would pass on to the absent Mr. Targaryen.

While your boss prepped the puppy for his first rabies shot, your job was to try and distract the little guy as much as possible and to keep him comfortable, of course. Helaena stood off to the side, letting the two of you work your magic, and within seconds- without even so much as a yelp- the procedure was finished and Sunfyre’s tail was still wagging.

“All done,” you cooed, placing a kiss on the puppy’s wet nose.

“Looks like he still likes you,” Helaena said as she hooked Sunfyre’s leash back to his collar. “I had a feeling he would.”

You went to say something, but Dr. Strong got there first, sticking his hand out to Helaena for a handshake and saying, “It was nice to meet you. Please tell Mr. Targaryan that we look forward to seeing him at the next visit, which you can coordinate at the front desk.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“You can follow me, this way,” you told her, ushering her and Sunfyre out of the exam room and into the lobby. “That’ll be $115,” you told her after tallying up the total sum of the visit.

She let out a low whistle and pulled her wallet from her back pocket, “is there any way to leave a tip for your excellent customer service?”

You let out a dry laugh, and bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something that would get you in trouble. “While I appreciate the offer, you should probably save it for your date tonight.”

“Date?” She asked as she signed the credit card receipt. “Shit, right, my date!” She exclaimed, thrusting the tiny piece of paper your way. “I gotta go!”

You made a face and hurriedly handed her a copy of the bill and a rabies tag for Sunfyre.

“Good luck,” you told her as she rushed out the front door. “And you're welcome,” you said with a frown after she didn’t even say ‘thank you’.

Happy that your day was finally over, you couldn’t help but feel like you had just been kicked in the gut. As you finished stamping the monthly statements, your mind was stuck on what Helaena and her blind date– who may or may not be an alien with six eyes– were doing right now. Was he smart? Was he making her laugh? Did he appreciate how absolutely breathtaking her smile was? Did she see him and immediately know that he was the one she had been searching for? Did time stop?

“Hey,” you heard Dr. Strong’s voice from behind you and realized that you had been standing in the same spot for minutes now, holding a stack of envelopes that you had meant to drop into the bin. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied as you came back to reality.

“Don’t forget you’re fostering Nugget tonight to make sure that he doesn’t pull out his stitches,” he told you before disappearing back into the hallway.

“Ah, yes, Nugget,” you replied, mostly to yourself, as you were sure your boss was out of earshot. “The overweight Chihuahua who looks like he ate one, too many nuggets. I couldn’t be more excited.”

After you locked up and had Nugget on a leash, you said your goodbyes to your boss; happy as ever that- even though it was well after dark- you were finally going home. You picked the chunky Chihuahua up, making sure not to touch his freshly removed manhood and placed him in the backseat, where he quickly made a home. Before you even pulled your seatbelt on, you pulled your hair out of its ponytail and ran your fingers over your tender scalp. It was the first step to comfort after what you were sure was the worst days you might have ever had. You’d take your shoes off if you could,, but you were sure there was some crazy law about driving barefoot, so you left them on.

Nugget stayed quiet for most of the way, until he unexpectedly started to whine. Thinking that he might need to go potty, you pulled over into the parking lot of an ice cream parlor. He hopped out of your backseat gingerly, and led you over to the grassy area where he proceeded to squat and relieve himself.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you heard from across the parking lot and turned to see none other than Mrs. Blind Date herself, Helaena. Just when you thought this day was starting to get better, she began walking toward you with Sunfyre in tow.

“Oh, hi,” you replied, cautiously looking around for the hot shot that would inevitably be introduced as her date. You didn’t want to ask, but curiosity got the best of you and, “how was your date?”

“Well, I was supposed to meet him here and he never showed,” she replied, looking a bit dejected. “I’m honestly not surprised at all. I mean, if you knew my brother, you probably wouldn’t be surprised either. Besides, what else should one expect from a man?” You laughed at that. “I was just about to leave, but then I saw you, and figured I’d say hello.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling again at her rambling, unable to help yourself when you heard that there was no date, and that this extremely attractive stranger was somehow still single. “Well, hello.”

Helaena smiled brightly before taking notice of Nugget, who was shaking at the thought of being petted by someone new, and dropped down to a knee so that she could reach him. “Who’s this little chunker?”

“This is Nugget,” you replied. “I’m fostering him for the night.”

“Fitting name,” she laughed, standing back to her regular height. “So, can I buy you an ice cream? I don’t think I said thanks before I ran out of your office earlier and I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Sure,” you replied quickly before you gave yourself a chance to say no. “I mean, yeah, that would be nice.”

Helaena smiled as you fell in step with each other, making your way to the front of the booth. Sunfyre and Nugget were playing with each other; romping around and playing together; putting you and Helaena into a few awkward positions as you had to unwrap their leashes from around each other’s legs. You learned that she was an artist, mostly oil paintings and photography, who lived on the quiet side of the city with Aegon, her brother. And you told her all about your bad day, and what it was like working in a veterinary office, and some of your funny stories from college.

Before you could even eat three bites of your ice cream, Nugget had coerced you into giving him most of it; which probably wasn’t what his actual owners intended for him to eat after his surgery. Helaena didn’t mind that the ice cream she had bought for you went to satisfying a fat Chihuahua’s sweet tooth, especially not when most of her own ice cream was being lapped up by little Sunfyre.

“Well, I should get home,” you told her after seeing the neon ‘open’ sign of the parlor shut off. “It’s getting late.”

She nodded, standing up from the bench that you had been sitting on, “It was really nice running into you.”

“I agree,” you replied with a smile.

“If you’d like to, maybe I can take you to dinner next?” She asked as she nervously ran a hand through her hair. You blinked a few times, wondering if you had heard her correctly or if it was your mind playing tricks on you. “You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to go to dinner with you,” you told her quickly and honestly.

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I mean, that’s cool.”

“Should we?” You asked, taking out your phone to swap numbers and she laughed.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

You repeated the numbers twice to make sure she typed in the right ones, and after an awkward hug that seemed like it was almost a kiss on the cheek, you and Nugget happily walked back to your car. As soon as the driver’s side door was shut, you let out a joyous squeal and did a small dance in your seat. Your phone vibrated from the cup holder as you shifted into gear. You picked it up quickly and swiped at the screen until an unsaved number popped up on your screen. Your heart soared at the message that could only have been from one person.

212-555-6789

That was the best blind date ever! ;)

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rushtoprove · 1 year

Text

the things we do for love

summary: Aemma Velaryon is the daughter of the Princess Rhaenyra and betrothed to Aemond Targaryen. Their young love blinds them to the bitterness between their families, but slowly their fantasy begins to unravel with time. How did the purest of love turn into such bitter hatred?

5. two sides of the same coin Eight years on from that fateful night in Driftmark, Aemond decides to spend his night in a brothel. Aemma preforms her first execution.

(i’m changing the timeline to build up the tension more. set before episode 8)

masterlist

word count: 4440

warnings: 18+ mention of gore and violence. heavy sexual references. medieval period misogyny. dark!aemond and dark!aemma. you don't survive the game of thrones being nice. read at your own discretion. aemond has an interesting approach to attraction.

Aemond knew he must look like a dull cunt right now. His whole family in fact, must all look like dull cunts. His father and mother stood side by side in the middle of the balcony as their children flanked them. Aegon and Helaena stood by their miserable looking father while Aemond stood tall beside his dutiful mother. The men below were marching to their impending death while the family stood in their silks and their golds and waved them off.

“Could you please try and smile Aemond? You are meant to be thanking these men for going to war under our banner.” Alicent did not take her eyes from the army marching below, nor did she lower her hand the slightest, but she simply knew her son stood straight faced with hardly any movement to his wave. It was a ridiculous question because Alicent could not remember the last time she had seen her precious boy smile.

“Hmm.” He hummed, yet his entire self-remained unchanged. He hardly waved, and he stared at the crowd with nothing but impatience and pity. He was only there at his mother’s command. Aemond had spent his years growing into a dutiful and devoted son to Queen Alicent, but he could not care less for his weak father. Viserys losing his first daughter when she fled with her bastard family almost eight years ago seemingly broke the frail man, and it seemed he would never recover from the heartbreak. Rhaenyra had run away with her tail between her whore legs and her pack of mutts gladly ran at her heels. Aemond despised the whole lot of them. He was happy to have no contact with any of them in the last eight years. He did not think of them at all. Not even one. He hated his bastard nephew’s Jace and Luke just as much as he hated their cousins Baela and Rhaena. His immoral sister and her depraved husband Daemon were nothing more than dirt under this family's foot and Aemond would not even give any thought to the illegitimate cunt of a daughter Aemma. If the two families ever did end up waring against one another, Aemond desperately craved it to be him that gets the revenge that is so rightfully his. He does not like to think about it for to long for those people are too far below him to even dwell upon.

Aemond Targaryen was notorious for his off-putting auror. Many found themselves moving in the other direction when they noticed the prince stalking around the castle, and others would lower their gaze in fear that he would notice them. His skills with a sword were praised throughout the seven kingdom and his dedication to his family was well known. It seemed he did not smile nor was ever seen dancing or enjoying any type of festivities. The prince did not enjoy conversing with anyone longer than need me and seemed uninterested in any and all who approached him. He did not care for the women who tried to seduce him or the men who tried to impress him. Instead, he focused on his learnings and trained himself to be fierce fighter. The day he lost an eye, Aemond changed.

“Come, my dear son. Let us have some tea with Helaena. If you are so against us throwing a feast for your name-day, surely you can entertain your mother and sister to afternoon tea.” As the parade ended, and his family shifted away to go about their day, he allowed his mother to link her arm around his and lead him towards her rooms. Since his thirteenth name day, Aemond hated celebrating this dreaded occasion and had forced his family to halt the banquets and balls that were meant to honour him. From the corner of his eye, he watched Helaena glide around them while humming a tune. She glowed bright, untainted by the ambitious streak that flowed through the Hightower veins. Sometimes, in the most silent part of the night, Aemond wandered what it would feel like.

“You are very quiet today brother?” She giggled, knowing full well her younger brother is a man of few words. Her jest was out of love, unlike the one’s that often left Aegon’s disturbed mouth. The harassment from his brother was yet to disappear, but now Aemond knew himself more powerful than the useless man. He would tell no one, but Aemond cried for his sister when she was forced to marry their cruel brother. Her spirit seemed to never waver however, making Aemond admire his gentle sister. Alicent had wept to Aemond many times over the guilt she felt from the match when she was too many wines deep, but Aemond would never criticise. Perhaps the duty he felt towards his mother was too intense, but she had defended Aemond in his worst moments. He would never forget that. He strived to be the son she craved, and the son that Aegon would never be.

“I have nothing to discuss.” His reply was curt, and most would have been deterred, but Helaena simply laughed and wrapped her arms around him. He was a year younger than her, but his height had surpassed her long ago and she found her neck aching if she stood too long in his presence.

“Nothing to discuss. You are a man of twenty years now! Surely you have some tales.” Aemond had not left the city unless it be to perform his royal duties with his family, his tales were the same as the rest.

“Come my darlings. It seems even little Daeron wanted to celebrate!” Alicent cooed as she opened the doors to her room and saw her youngest child rolling around the ground limply as entertainment. He was only four, but Aemond went bitter with distaste for the childish tactics of his brother.

“All we are missing is Aegon.” Helaena smiled, but Aemond saw the light fade in her eyes for a few seconds.

“Thank the seven for that.” Aemond smirked as it was his turn to wrap his arms around her. In the privacy of these quarters, Aemond allowed himself to relax, if only a tiny bit. She instantly lit up and giggled at her brother’s straightforwardness. Alicent simply clicked her tongue as she ushered her children to the table that she had the servants set up.

“Hush Aemond. Do not disrespect your brother. He was not feeling well, he has taken to bed.” Alicent knew that he was well, but she would never allow herself to utter what Aegon was most likely up to. Especially not in front of his pure and wholesome wife. Aemond clenched his fists as he was well aware Aegon had most likely taken some unsuspecting maid to his chambers. He would have called out that his brother was a cunt, but he could not do that before his mother and sister, so he instead sat down with a grunt of acknowledgement.

“I shall say a prayer!” Helaena smiled and Alicent looked encouraging at her daughter. Aemond closed his eye, but he had long ago given up on any idea of higher beings. It was simply for his mother’s sake that he put on his little show of faith.

“Grapes.” Daeron squealed on Alicent’s lap. Aemond would have rolled his eye if it were open.

“May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May my dear brother live another year of health and happiness. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long for I wish dearly to see my cousins once more. I miss them. We all do. Amen.” Perhaps it was because Helaena had not been disturbed on the fateful night that Aemond had his eye taken or she cherished her memories of her youth too much, it seemed no matter how hard her family tried to explain the feud between their families, Helaena longed to see everyone together. Aemond had to hold her the day of her wedding when she found out Rhaenyra and her children would not be in attendance. Her tears gave Aemond more reason to loath the brutes.

“Thank you, Helaena.” Alicent shifted uncomfortable as she looked towards Aemond. She knew any mention of that family, no matter how small, affected him. All in court knew not to bring it up, and the mention of Princess Aemma Velaryon would have grave consequences. Aemond met her gaze with a straight face, not allowing the thoughts to enter his mind. He was here to enjoy his time with arguably the only two people he cared for in this world. Thoughts of knives and stolen youths would not tarnish that.

“Quite a set up mother.” Aemond looked at the table that was covered in an array of fruits and cakes, partnered with different pots of tea. It was too much for three people but visually it looked grand.

“Only the best to celebrate your name day my son. I do wish you would let me hold a feast for the lords to pay their respects to you as well.” Alicent sighed as the servants around them began dishing out portions. Aemond did not feel the need to respond to the comment. Instead, he sat and listened as the two women shared mindless conversation while interjecting with small noises of confirmation or snarky remarks. The two women were just glad to have Aemond sitting with them. It was a two-hour ordeal before a knock at the door alerted Alicent that she needed to attend to her husband, who quickly bid her farewells and ushered herself away quickly.

“Thank you for coming today brother.” Helaena smiled as she hugged her brother farewell. She was aware he would spend his days in the training yard or a top Vhagar until he was summoned to duty again. Aemond craved his space, and everyone knew not to intrude when he was alone.

“It was a pleasure.” He smiled back at his sister, but it always seemed to come out as a grimace. It seemed he had spent his years frowning and glaring making the muscles forget how to stretch into a genuine sign of affection.

“Aegon wished for me to remind you to meet him tonight at the usual spot. He said something about an annual tradition?” She looked curiously at her brother but knew whatever she had been referring to instantly closed her brother off to any more affection.

“Our brother can rot.”

+++

Aemond hated himself as his feet guided him to the small archway hidden inside the kitchens. It had been hours since he had cursed his brother, yet here he was following the instructions. He knew where Aegon was taking him. It would be the same place he had been taking him since Aemond celebrated turning ten and three. As hard as he tried, he never denied his brother's commands.

“Ah brother! You are early! Keen for your celebrations!” Aegon loud voice boomed around the empty chamber making Aemond flinch. Seeing his brother casually leaning against the archway with a grin made Aemond’s stomach churn in disgust.

“Lower your voice you fool. You shall alert the entire castle.” Aemond hissed, glaring hard as Aegon quickly ran his fingers over his lips, mock sealing them. They rushed ahead with their hoods covering their face and their cloaks hiding them from any prying eyes. If word was to get back to their mother of these indiscretions, Aemond would never forgive himself.

“I have made sure a very special surprise awaits you brother. One I’m sure you will find quite fulfilling.” Aegon promised with glee as he almost skipped down the filthy streets. Every turn someone was offering all types of services, and the constant touch of people rubbing up on Prince Aemond was almost too much. He could not understand the delight his older brother got from visiting this hell every night. The one night a year Aemond spent here was enough to last him a lifetime.

“I am sure it shall be the same as every other gift you have promised me.” Aemond growled, annoyed by his brother already.

“Oh, I don’t think it will dear brother.” The rest of the journey was Aegon talking out loud to Aemond who tried his hardest to ignore every syllable to fall from his vile mouth. When they finally made it to their destination, Aemond was nauseas by the sight. His nostrils were filled with the scent of sweat, alcohol and vomit that swirled in the air while his ears were overcome with the sounds of moans and grunts. He tried hard to repress the shiver that went down his spine at slapping of skin he could hear from behind the closed doors. In the corner he watched as a lord from his father’s council forced a woman to her knees just so he could shove himself in her mouth. Aemond was repulsed by the way nothing seemed sacred in places like this. He cursed his brother once more.

“Back again my King.” Aemond spun in shock at the treasonous words, but Aegon simply cried out a laugh before pulling the woman closer.

“You think I could stay away from this for too long.” He growled as he pushed his face into her bare breasts making her squeal in delight. Aemond almost threw up. Turning on his heel, he moved to find somewhere to stay as far away from his brother as possible, but Aegon reached out and grabbed him.

“I’m sorry! I forgot how uptight you are. Here let me introduce you. This is Lyanna. She is my very special friend. This my prudish brother Aemond. He is a bore!” Aegon introduced them and Aemond kept his eye on her face as she curtsied.

“My Prince. I have heard much about you.” She uttered the words as if she knew a secret making his skin crawl. Aemond did not reply.

“Come brother, be nice. Lyanna has been kind enough to help me set up your gift.” Aegon slapped his brother’s back before pulling him forward to follow the whore. Aemond tried to keep his eyes front but every now and then he would catch site of women beckoning him into their rooms, or a door would be open to show different lords lying flat on the beds as women bounced upon their cock. Aemond felt nothing but revulsion. He cursed himself that even after all these years, a small part of him was still desperate to gain his brother’s respect.

“This will be your room for the night my prince.” Lyanna grabbed a hold of Aemond’s hand and placed it on the handle. He looked at both in boredom.

“Is my surprise a whore again brother? Who would have thought?”

“Not just any whore, dear brother. Open the door!” He was bouncing with delight and when the door was not opened, Aegon took it upon itself to swing the door open and push his brother in. Before them stood a woman, bare of any clothes, except for a necklace hanging from her delicate neck. Aemond was at a loss for words. It was normal for a whore to reside in these rooms, and it was a gift that Aegon had organized many times, but her long silver hair that shined in the candlelight shocked Aemond.

“A Targaryen?” The answer was obvious, but Aemond stood unmoving in astonishment. She kept her eyes lowered but began running her hands up and down her smooth skin, squeezing and tugging ever so often.

“Yes! It seems our dear Uncle Daemon left you a gift when he used to visit these streets many years ago.” Aegon could not contain his excitement and once Aemond got over his astonishment, he quickly became confused.

“And why would this give me joy brother?” He frowned. Aegon nodded to Lyanna to leave the room before beckoning the girl before them. She slowly walked forward with her eyes downcast and a smirk playing on her lips. Aemond almost sliced his brother’s throat when he saw the dark sapphire that was engraved into the whore’s necklace. It was an exact replica from one he dreamed about every night. When Aegon reached up to her shoulders and turned her so that she had her back to the brother’s, Aemond was mortified when he realised the intention. His shame grew as he felt himself twitch in his pants as he gazed at the smooth skin and silver locks that fell to halfway down her back.

“Do not think I do not know what you hide under your eyepatch brother. Do not think I do not know what you desire most you fucked up bastard.” Aegon looked like he had won a battle, his face overcome with pride at himself. When his brother did not reply, he left the room and closed the door to the outside world. Aemond could not help himself as he reached out and grazed his fingers across the skin of her neck.

“You will hold your tongue about this.” He whispered; his one eye wider than it had ever been.

“Anything for you, my prince.” She did not look at him, and Aemond was grateful. Stepping forward with caution, he let himself press his nose into her hair. It smelt dirty and felt coarse, nothing like the floral scents he remembered from long ago. He let himself drown in the memory of her. The woman before him was his own canvas as he slowly tugged her head to the side by her hair. She let out a moan at the contact making Aemond swallow thickly.

“Aemma.” Her name was whispered like a prayer.

+++

Across the sea, in the war-torn area of the Stepstones, Aemma Velaryon was trying not to allow her shaking hands to be seen. It was important to hide this weakness and stand strong before her army. She knew they looked to her as a leader, and their leader could not be weak.

“You do not need to do this today sweet Aemma. It is something to learn for another day.” Her grandfather muttered as he turned his back to the crowd to make sure no one saw him speak. Corlys did not wish for what was about to happen, but the other generals were adamant that it was time for Aemma to prove herself worthy of her position.

“It must be done. I would need to do it sooner or later. It is my duty.” She kept her eyes forward and let herself straight her back. Looking towards the guard to the left, she gave him a nod of confirmation.

“MAKE WAY FOR THE PRISONER!” He screamed the order as the sea of soldiers parted before her and four guards dragged forward a man. Aemma stood above them all on a hill, high enough that all could see her, but close enough that they could hear her words. She tried to focus on the sound of the ocean around them and closed her eyes as the breeze washed over her, coating her skin in the salty spray. For a split second she found herself a top the dunes in Driftmark eight years ago. The moment was fleeting, and the thought perished as she turned back to face her oncoming duty. The prisoner was stumbling as he was dragged forward, crying as he was thrown at her feet.

“Have mercy Princess! Please have mercy!” His whole body shook and Aemma guessed him to be the same age as herself, perhaps even younger. She tried not to look into his eyes as she began speaking.

“BRON HOLLARD, YOU STAND BEFORE US, FOUND GUILTY OF THE HIGHEST TREASON.” Aemma’s voice was firm and loud, making sure everyone heard. “YOU ABANDONED YOUR POST AND ALLOWED OUR ENEMIES TO GAIN MORE LAND FROM US DUE TO YOUR COWADICE. YOU GAVE UP ON YOUR FRIENDS, YOUR BROTHERS, YOUR PEOPLE AND YOU FLED.”

“Please mercy Princess Aemma. I was scared. Please!”

“I AEMMA VELARYON, PRINCESS OF THE HOUSE TARGARYEN, HEIR TO THE IRON THONE AND COMMANDER OF THIS LEGION, A DRAGONRIDER OF VELARYON BLOOD, SENTENCE YOU TO DEATH BY BEHEADING.” Bron cried out and moved to clasp onto Aemma’s feet but was pulled back by the guards.

“Bring forward the executioner.” One of the Lords’ declared.

“No.” Aemma stopped them.

“I shall do it myself.” Corlys went to grab his granddaughter but was stopped by her guard Sir Rodrick Bolten. The knight looked longingly at the girl he had devoted himself to protect, but Aemma was oblivious.

“It was decided by the other Lords. It is to prove she will not look away.” He muttered. Corlys shook him off but knew to stay silent. He watched as his granddaughter clenched her sword, unwavering. He mourned the loss of the innocent girl that used to follow him around, desperate to learn the knowledge behind becoming a leader. The soldiers looked at her with respect.

“Please.” Bron cried softly this time, his one last plea, but it did nothing for his cause. When Aemma swung her sword, and his head rolled off in one clean sweep, the crowd cheered. The traitor was dead, and Aemma had proven herself strong enough to lead this war.

“Come Princess. Let us clean that blood.” Sir Rodrick looked down at the Princess who was now sprayed with the blood of her kill. She kept her eyes forward, before turning on her own accord. She left her grandfather and her guard to trail behind her and gave no notice to the men who bowed as she passed. It wasn’t until her they entered the main tent that she allowed her Corlys to place a hand on her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her forehead and she allowed herself to breathe again.

“It had to be done. I am proud.” He muttered as he took in Aemma’s emotionless state. The other generals burst through, laughing and mimicking the last words of the poor boy.

“Enough!” Aemma ordered as they began to huddle around the table. “It is time to plan the next attack. We are losing this war. We need to discuss the next strategy.”

They did discuss, for six long hours, and not once did Aemma move to clean the now dried blood splattered over her. Her commands were firm and her ideas more strategic than what most men were putting forward. Some whispered that she had inherited her taste for war from her true father Prince Daemon. None were brave enough to say it before the princess, for they had seen the repercussions of such a treasonous comment.

“We have... a delicate matter to discuss.” One lord shifted as he grabbed the attention of the table. “It seems King Viserys has decided to cut the funds by half that he was using on this war.” The table erupted with nervous chatter and Aemma looked at Corlys from the corner of her eye. He was looking back with the same weary look.

“By how much?” She questions as she placed her palms face down on the maps before the. AT that very moment Terrax, her now much larger dragon roared in the distant making the men flinch. Aemma did not break eye contact.

“Half.” The lord could not look her in the eye and the rest began cursing. It would be impossible to continue this war with that amount of money. It had already been cut only weeks before. Aemma cursed, but she knew this was not the king who wished this.

“And what was his reasoning?” She hissed and most men could no longer look at princess. Her anger was that of a dragon.

“The royal family have taken to... redecorating their castle.” The curses grew louder as one man threw his hands down to shake the table.

“This is the work of The Hand.” Her grandfather boiled with rage beside Aemma, and she inhaled as her frustration could not be contained. The vicious pack of cunts that was the Hightower's were a meddling pack of fools. The debate grew as different suggestions were put forward, but Aemma knew there was only one answer. Her grandfather Viserys still harboured great love for his granddaughter and wrote her letters whenever his health allowed. Aemma never found time to respond. She could not find it in herself to be the one to suggest.

“Princess Aemma and I shall have to fly to King’s Landing. We will petition him as his kin. He will not deny us.” Corlys was firm and left no room for discussion. Aemma knew she was in no position to fight against it, and simply nodded. She would just be sure to stay clear of the Queen, who had sworn to take her eye those many years ago and remain hidden from her uncles. The thought of seeing Aemond made her sick. Aemma would stay no more than necessary.

“Perhaps you can make the journey alone?” Aemma gritted her teeth as the tension around the table grew.

“Your grandfather will respond to your pleas more. You know this.”

“I believe his wife threatened to take my eye the last time she saw me. How shall she respond? How shall her miserable cunt of a son respond when he is faced with the woman who marred his face?” She felt her hand ghost over the blade that was strapped to her hip. She tried hard to repress the familiar screams that echoed inside her mind.

“Gods be good...”

“No harm will come to you. I would promise it, but we all know you are more than capable of fighting granddaughter. I am sure the family will know not to come close. It is time we take to beds. We cannot win this war if we are exhausted.”

The matter was settled, and the princess spun on her heel and strode away without so much as a look at any of those men. She did not bid her grandfather goodnight as she often did for she wanted him to understand the hell that he was going to force upon her. She had spent these years forcing herself to lock away the memories of her youth and it seemed she had only just stopped waking up screaming from the sight of a bloodied eye socket. Rumours of the foulness of that family plagued the camp and their ruthless taste for power repulsed Aemma.

She lied awake all night, distraught knowing she would face those ghosts so soon.

“I will take your eye! I will make sure your debt is paid!”

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